The Chronicles of the Author and Daemon
by RenzokukenZ
Summary: A collection of skits in which the author and daemon encounter, and perhaps knock off, a variety of ff7 characters of YOUR choosing! Rated T for blood, mild violence, language, and Scarlet. See chapter 1 for details. Flames are welcomed as usual.
1. A Note From The Author

Hello, readers! The basis of this story is really simple: You, the readers, tell me via review or PM which Final Fantasy 7 character you want dead, and I write a skit involving the author (a man of unknown origin-but probably me in the third person) and the daemon (a demon spirit that exists in his mind-also exists in mine) and that character chosen in which the character dies in a most gruesome way. Sometimes by the daemon. Other times by the author. And on rare occasions, a special character may come and finish the job.

Now, before you start sending me hitlists, there are certain rules and regulations that must be followed. There aren't that many, but that doesn't mean they can be ignored. Here they are:

The character has to be in the Final Fantasy 7 universe, though minus the spin-offs (that includes Crisis Core, Before Crisis, and all other games or OVA based before the main game. Reason being-I haven't played/watched them or looked up any info on the characters so I don't know how they would act. DoC is an exception.)

The character cannot be a child. (Can't kill a kid even if they are digital. Just not me. So Denzel and Marlene are safe)

You can either request an entire scenario with the character you want in it or just the character. However, I will try to keep that to a minimum, since there will be a lot of debating over how to kill that character, especially if that character is a popular choice amongst readers.

No OC's.

With all this, it should be easy to pick your choice. Now, start the demise!

Oh, and flames will be used to cremate the victim bodies, so they might help.

Thanks for participating!

RenzokukenZ


	2. Hojo

**The first 3 skits have been around for a while in my profile, but by demand from fellow author MysticSpiritus and others, I have decided to make it into a story. It will be revised from it's original form to suit the readers better. **

**This skit is a request from MysticSpiritus. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything that isn't mine. Simple as that. **

* * *

The Author blows the dust off his laptop and commences to write something down. He begins writing a sentence about an introduction to one of his dialogue skits involving him and the daemon occupying his head. He stops, thinks, and writes again. He feels sure that the writer's block has finally left him, that his mind is free to create tales of laughter and beauty. But he seems to be doubting that belief... 

"Man, this is hard..."

_"What are you trying to do?"_

That was the voice of the daemon, a demonic spirit that exists in the author's head._  
_

"What does it look like? I'm trying to come up with some new material, but I can't seem to think right!" the author yelled in frustration.

_"What about your cures for writer's block?"_

The author let's out a sigh. "Sadly, Daft Punk and Ramen Noodles can only do so much."

As if on cue, in the corner of his room, the author sees one of the members of Daft Punk, the one with the gold helmet, holding a cup of Ramen Noodles, filled with an impossible amount of cheese.

"Sorry man, but I'm not hungry."

_"Hey..." _the daemon started "_Since when did Daft Punk bring you noodles?"_

"Since..." the author stopped, as if a brick had hit him on the face. "Hey, wait a minute!"

Suddenly, a loud cackle came from inside the Daft Punk's helmet and as it, the member, proceeds to remove it, the cackle turns into a manic laughter as the face of an extremely wicked asian man was revealed.

Shocking, isn't it?

"What the?! Hojo?!"

Hojo proceeded with removing the rest of his disguise to reveal his regular attire, save for a coat.

"Hahahahahaha! So you've heard of me. That saves me the trouble of making pointless chatter." Hojo stated as he puts on a lab coat that he got out of nowhere.

"But...you are making pointless chatter." the author reassured.

"No I'm not! I'm too brilliant to be engulfed in such irrelevant act."

"But you are!"

"Are not!"

"Are too!"

"Are not!"

And so for the next 16 hours, this poor excuse of a conversation strives.

"Are too!"

"Are-Enough of that! I came here in search of new guinea pigs for research, and you have the right characteristics I'm looking for." Hojo began doing that crazy glasses glare where the glasses are glowing and piercing.

"Uh...Sorry to disappoint you, but I'm straight."

This was really freaking the author out.

"What? No, you incopotent fool! Not 'those' characteristics!"

"Either way, I'm not going with you. You creep me out." The author made sure he had a safe distance between him and the crazed scientist.

"Thats what they all say."

_"And I bet they also say that your prudent ass is completely insane and you smell of dog biscuits."_

"I was hungry and...!" Hojo stops as he notices that he and his 'prey' are the only ones in the room. "Wait, who said that?"

_"God," _the author dropped his head and began shaking it as to what the daemon was saying. _"And I am here to smite you with my God powers!"_

Hojo felt a smirk forming on his face as he stared into a distant wall. "Ha! You can't be God!"

_"Why not?"_

"Because I'm an atheist, and therefore, you cannot exist if my beliefs dictate you don't. Hence, you don't exist to me, so you cannot say you are God if there is no God for me to believe." Hojo lifted his head high with pride in his intellect.

"...Damn. He's good."

_"...Old fart."_

Hojo turns his attention back to the author. "So what was that, a ventrilaquist act, or was it one of those stupid muse things I've been hearing about?"

_"WHAT?!" _The whole room shakes from the echoing voice.

"...Uh-oh." The author quickly takes cover underneath his computer desk.

In front of Hojo, a dark matter began to manifest into the form of a giant beast. At first, Hojo didn't seem frightened, since he created stuff that appeared much more fierce looking, but that quickly changed when the matter finally turned into...the shadow version of Galian Beast with wings.

The Beast looked down to Hojo, who looked like he was having a heart attack. _"DO I LOOK LIKE A MUSE TO YOU, PATHETIC HUMAN?!"_

The only sound Hojo was able to make was a small meep as liquid came out of his lower waist area.

_"YOU SHALL DIE FOR YOUR IGNORANCE!!!"_ the daemon opens it's jaws and lunges towards his victim: Hojo.

"...Not again."

Hojo squeels like Micheal Jackson as the daemon proceeds to tear him apart. Blood is splattered in every corner of the room. Bits and pieces of flesh scatter about with every shake the daemon makes on Hojo's bloody body. After another 16 hours, all that remains of Hojo were his cracked glasses, with one eye still attached.

The Galian Beast was lying on the floor, rubbing his stomach to ease the churning noises. "_Man, that was delicious!"_

"You said it!"

The daemon turns around to see the author sitting on his desk chair, which miraculously had no blood, eating the ramen noodles from before. Every fork load was filled with oozing cheese and noodles, and the daemon was surprised that the noodles were still hot.

_"Didn't Hojo poison those so he can capture you into being an experiment?"_

"Nope. He figured the abnormal amount of cheese would give me a heart attack or something. Some genius."

The author eats his noodles happily, despite his room quickly smelling of rotten flesh and dog biscuits.

* * *

**Well, there you have it.**

_**Do you know how many bottles of Pepto-Bismol I had to take to calm my stomach down? Hojo was seriously some bad meat!**_

**And you still ate him despite that fact. What's your point?**

_**A person's personality dictates how they will taste like.**_

**Right...interesting note there.**

**Please read and review. **


	3. Scarlet

**This is one of the original 3 skits I had in my profile. It has been changed greatly to better suit the audience, I think... **

**This next skit is a request from MysticSpiritus. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: All I own are many college books, which are used to silence the daemon. **

* * *

"**System Error. Cannot Log In.**" 

The author types in the same code he has tried for the past hour.

"**System Error. Cannot Log In.**"

"Why won't you let me in!?" The author yelled, practically growling.

_"What the hell are you yelling about now?" _asked the ever-so-caring daemon.

The author raised his hands in frustration. "My computer keeps telling me I can't log in! My Username and Password are correct, but the stupid machine keeps telling me no! Grr!" He picks up the laptop and begins to shake it furiously.

"Why! Won't! You! Let! Me! IN!!!"

At this time, the laptop slips from the author's hands and crashes into a wall.

_"Well, now you won't be able to log in AT ALL, stupid!"_

"No!" The author fell to his knees, "All my work! Lost forever in the depths of broken chips and plastic!"

_"It's your fault, you know."_

"Well...uh...this wouldn't have happened if...um...shut up!"

_"Heheh...hey, what's going on?"_

The author looks at his broken laptop and sees a plot-hole forming. Then, a slender hand comes out of it, followed by a head covered in blonde hair, and a very lithe body covered in a red dress, and red heels at the end of it all. The plot-hole disappeared, leaving behind a very adultroues looking woman.

_"Isn't that...Scarlet?"_

"Huh?" The author was obviously shocked at what just happened.

_"I said, you inferior male human, isn't that Scarlet?" _The daemon sounded irritated.

"Let me see..." The author goes to a nearby bookshelf and pulls out a book titled "Sluts of Alternate Realms 9th Edition" and scanned through it. In page 69 he saw a picture of the "Top Slut of Final Fantasy", which was a woman wearing nothing but a red night gown of the thinest material lying on a bed. At the bottom of the picture, the name "Scarlet" was written, along with a phone number. He looked up from the book to the woman standing by the broken computer, her eyes darting his with lustful intent.

"Yep, it's Scarlet."

_"...Why do you have such book in your posession?"_

"You have to know who to avoid." the author said, careful with what words he used, "Like her."

Said 'her' stared down the author with such a glare that one of his heads began flashing red.

"Now, who do we have here?"Scarlet asked, her voice sounding sweet. She then began walking towards the author in such a sultry manner that he couldn't help but stare.

_"Hey, are you thinking what I'm thinking?"_

"Run like hell and don't look back?" the author said in his mind, as to make sure the nymph known as Scarlet doesn't hear.

_"What? Why would you want to run away? You're not...gay, are you?"_

"What!? No, I'm straight, damnit! Straight! It's just that, well, it's Scarlet."

By this time, Scarlet had managed to walk around the author a few times, checking his stuff, before pressing herself on his back. He could feel something big being rubbed against him, and this made him lose his concentration.

"Hmm...your kind of cute, you know that?" she said closely in his ear. Heck, she was so close that she began licking his ear with her tongue.

_"You want to get away from THIS?" _asked the daemon, obviously referring to the sex machine that is Scarlet.

"Do you know how many people have fallen to her spell?"

_"One too few?"_

"Everybody! And if she takes me, she'll rule the world!"

The author, being too busy arguing with the daemon, is not aware about Scarlet's hand moving on his chest, but his body was. It seems two heads aren't better than one after all.

_"So if you sleep with her, she gets world domination. Right?"_

"...You're plotting something, aren't you?"

_"Maybe..."_ There was a mischievous arua surrounding the daemon's words.

Before the author could question him, a sudden sensation came when Scarlet's hand reached a certain 'sensitive' area, causing the author to move away from her. This startled even Scarlet, who managed to tame a great many men with that maneuver.

"What? You afraid to be touched by a woman? Or do you prefer your own hand?" She said with a questioning smirk.

"What?! Did I just get burned by Scarlet?" The author couldn't believe it. He just got burned by Scarlet. Scarlet!

_"I think you did."_

"Well, if that's how you play, then I guess you wouldn't mind if I...played along."Scarlet began to place her hands over her curves and begin moving them around. Her actions appeared like some erotic dance.

"Ok, this is getting too wierd." The author sat down on his bed to try and put his thoughts together, and to make something look less visible. "First, I break my computer by accident on the wall and then a plot-hole appeared, and now I'm being seduced by the biggest slut in the Final Fantasy world?"

"You make it sound like it's a bad thing." Scarlet said while she began increasing the effect of her dance by shaking her torso area.

"Well," At this moment, the author couldn't help himself as he took a peek at her torso area, but then went straight back to his thoughts. "As tempting as this is, and I mean really, I'm going to have to decline."

Suddenly, the author could hear a bunch of people chanting 'Fag!' outside of his room. When he went to open the door to see who they were, they turned out to be a bunch of male gamers.

_"I won't!"_ The daemon comes out as-you guessed it-the shadow version of Galian Beast with wings and appears before Scarlet, who didn't seem afraid one bit.

"Hmm..." she walks around the Beast and nods."You'll do."

The author and the bunch of male gamers made questionable faces. "You know that's bestiality, right?"

"Not the first time."

Suddenly, the bunch of male gamers began puking everywhere outside of the room. The author rushes out of the room and closes the door to join in the puke fest.

7 hours later...

The author comes back after going to Taco Bell with the bunch of male gamers, since after they puked everything out of them, they got hungry. When he entered his room, it was completely torn apart and blood everywhere. It's no surprise that the author turned around and puked some more outside.

"Daemon?"

The sound of a belch was made and the author turned to a corner only to see the daemon wiping his blood soaked lips with a fragment of a red dress.

"Man, you ate her up!"

_"In more ways than one...heheh."_

While laughing, the daemon coughed and out came a large sac filled with a jelly like substance. Both the author and daemon stare at the sac for a period of time.

"Well, that explains a lot."

* * *

**As soon as I post the original 3, I will start creating new skits from the requests made. So don't lose hope if the person you want offed is not here yet. College is really limiting my time.**

**Please read and review! **


	4. Kadaj feat Turks and SHM

**This is the last of the original 3 skits that were in my profile. From now on, any new skits will be from those requested. **

**This Skit was brought to you by Turk 4 Life. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: All I own is the right to kill off these characters through fanfiction and nothing else! **

* * *

"You sure this is the right address, yo?" asked a man wearing a blue suit and having fiery red hair. 

"...Affirmative." answered another man with the same suit, only he was bald and had sunglasses.

"Yeah, Reno! For the Nth time, yes this is the place. Don't you trust Rude?" asked a woman wearing the same suit and having blonde short hair.

The man named Reno made a huff and crossed his arms. "No! Remember the time we had to go to Mideel for a business trip but we ended up at Bone Village instead? That was a trip wasted."

"...You were the one with the directions." Rude was not taking the blame again.

"Ah, quit trying to duck the blame!" Reno then leaned towards a wall. "Anyway, Elena you stand at that end and I'll be here. Rude if you do the honor?"

Rude nodded and prepared to break down the door with a mighty kick. After a 30 minute animation sequence which involved backflips, somersaults and even a Pogo-stick, Rude kicked the door so hard that it practically shattered into a billion pieces.

The woman Elena enters first, her gun aiming to the closest thing. "All right we want answers, punk! Where is it?"

Reno entered next and had with him an Electro-Magnetic Rod (EMR) "Talk or I'll fry ya!"

"...You cannot resist. Give up now." Rude walked in last, cracking his knuckles into fists.

All three Turks were locked, loaded and were aiming at the culprit...who in reality was just some college guy sitting on a chair eating Ramen noodles while watching Friends re-runs. This guy, of course, was none other than the author.

"Whu da fu au yu doi hea?" This is what happens when you're mouth is full with noodles.

Elena doesn't buy this supposed act and cocks her gun. "Don't play dumb! We know you have it, so hand it over."

Rude was about to say something, but something seemed wrong. The room they were in didn't seem right. "Uh, Elena?"

"Come on, kid! Spill it! Where do you have it?" Reno began charging up his EMR to the point that electricity danced at the tip of the rod.

"Reno?"

"WHAT?!" Both Elena and Reno were becoming irritated by Rude's bickering.

"This isn't the place..."

At that point, Elena's face turned red with humiliation, while Reno began a sort of victory dance.

"Ha, ha! I was right! You were wrong! Nya, nya, nya, nya, nya!"

Elena, becoming pissed by Reno's excuse of a dance, shoots him on the leg and he falls on top of a DVD stack. She then turns to Rude, who didn't want what his partner got. "What the hell do you mean that this isn't the place? Where did you get the directions?"

"Mapquest."

Reno, completely ignoring the bullet hole in his leg, stood up and begins to scan through a few DVDs. "Mapquest? No wonder! For all we know it's at the other side of the-OMG!!" He picks up a DVD from the floor. The box showed a man with blonde hair on a bike holing a ridiculiously giant sword, while another man with long, silver hair was at the corner. Reno's eyes were shining like a child's when they see candy. "This dude has Advent Children! I'm so gonna watch it and-"

"Ahem!"

The Turks turn to see the author still on his chair, and still watching Friends. He had finished his noodles around the time Reno got shot, and now he was giving all three a death-glare.

"Again, what the hell are you doing here?"

Reno thought fast and said the first thing that came to mind. "We were...uh...doing pest patrol!"

"No we weren't!" Elena didn't like the idea of 3 well-dressed individuals blowing up someone's door just to get rid of some vermin. "We came here...to...uh..."

"Pimp your ride!" Reno finished for her.

"Right! Pimp your ride." She gave a weak smile to the author while she signals Reno closer and wispers in his ear. "What the hell does that mean?"

Reno whispers something and Elena's eyes go wide. No one was expecting this. Not even the author.

Elena slapped the living crap out of Reno!

"Perv! I am NOT going to do that!" Reno's face was now completely red from the force of the slap.

Rude gave out a big sigh. He knew they were going nowhere with this. It seems he had no choice. "We are here in persuit of Jenova's Head."

"Rude!" The other 2 Turks were shocked to hear Rude giving away their orders to a civilian.

The author couldn't help but tilt his head to the question. "Jenova's Head? I thought Kadaj used it to complete his transformation into Sephiroth."

"Naw, that was just special effects we used in the movie." Reno stated, waving Advent Children in front of the author. "The real Head is still out there somewhere."

"And we have to find it before Kadaj does." added Elena.

The author began to feel that he had the worst luck ever. He knew he shouldn't, but it had to be said. "You are all a bunch of idiots."

Rude's sunglasses broke when the sentence was finished.

"Why do you say that?!" asked Reno as he charges up his EMR.

"Because you relied on Mapquest to find Jenova's Head, you broke my door, crushed most of my DVDs, and you don't even know what Pimp my Ride is!"

All three Turks dropped their heads in shame.

"We're sorry." said Elena, while making sobbing noises. They sounded real, but the author knew they were fake.

Reno turned off his EMR and headed to the door. "Yeah, we'll leave now."

Rude got out a new pair of sunglasses out of his coat. "Our apologies."

They began to leave when the author threw what appeared to be a lance of sorts in their direction, hitting Reno in the back. He wailed from the sudden pain, but nothing else. They turned around to see the author standing and staring them down with another death-glare.

"What are you talking about!? You're not going anywhere until my door is fixed!"

And so, the great team of assassins were reduced to Rude collecting the billion pieces of the door and putting them together with superglue, Reno, with the lance still on his back, picking up the DVDs he dropped and stashing a few in his coat, and since there was nothing left to do, Elena made the author another cup of noodles and they both watched Friends.

"Is this the show where Ross was about to marry Emily but the retard said Rachel's name instead?"

"No," the author reassured, "This is the show where Phoebe was accused of making a porn flick but it was actually her twin sister Ursula who made the movie."

Reno was starting to laugh hard. "Man, Elena! Those shows are not even related." He then fixed his hand over his mouth as if he was coughing. "(cough) blonde (cough)"

Elena, being seriously ticked off by Reno, got her gun out again and shoots Reno on his arm. He falls down again, despite having a lance stuck on his back. During this time, Rude places the billionth piece on the door and the whole thing somehow became completely fixed.

"...Finished."

"Alright!" Reno shouted as he shot up and turned around to face the author, ignoring all of his wounds, and hits Rude with the lance knocking off his glasses. "Can we go now? Please?"

"Wait, this is the part where Joey talks about his porn movie! she protested, pouting.

Rude approaches Elena, all the while getting a new pair of sunglasses out of his coat. "Come on Elena. We can watch Friends in the office."

"Fine!"

The author let out a sigh of relief. "About time!"

The Turks were about to leave when...BOOM! The door was destroyed-again-by none other than the Silver Haired Men: Kadaj, Loz, and Yazoo. They entered the room with such questionable style that it put the guys from Queer Eye For A Straight Guy into shame.

"We come for Mother's Head." stated the leader Kadaj.

The author curses silently as he gets up from his chair and walks toward Kadaj.

"WTF!? Why does everyone think that Jenova's Head is here?"

Yazoo approached the author from the left side. "That's what it says in these directions."

"Give me those!" the author snatches the directions and looks at them. "Let's see...turn left here...u-turn there...go straight 20 miles and...no wait you go right 20 miles so...no that's not it!" the author shreds the directions into many pieces. "Damn you Mapquest!"

Kadaj merely shakes his head. "Mapquest or not, it is here. Why else would they be here?" He points to the Turks, who were on the floor due to the explosion.

Reno managed to get up, but the lance was still on his back. "We had the same problem, too, yo."

"Lies!" Loz shouted, his eyes already starting to water up. "You're here because you had a deal with this young man which involved him hiding Mother's Head so that he can give it to you later."

All was silent until Yazoo hit Loz at the back of his head with his gunblade. Loz then began crying...hard.

"That's the stupidest idea I've ever heard. It's obvious that they payed him to find the head and hide it for them, and them come here to collect the goods."

"(sniff) That's ex-x-xactly wha-a-at I (sniffs) said!(coughs)"

"Yeah, but I'm cooler."

_"You all look like the remains of all boy bands in existence squeezed together to form the gayest trio of all time."_

All the Turks began laughing, even Loz.

"What!?" yelled Kadaj as he draws out his double-bladed katana. "Who said that!?"

The author obviously knew whos' voice that was, and decided to take the conversation in his head. "Oh, now you show up, you damn daemon!"

_"Hey it's not my fault I was invited to a party in the Lifestream. It was going good until that bitch Jenova showed up and began tainting everybody."_

An idea sparked in the author's head. "Quick, go back down there and bring her here."

_"WHAT!? Are you insane?"_

"Like a fox!"

The daemon goes back to the lifestream to get Jenova, all the while saying saying something about how the author is insane and such. Meanwhile, the author had to find a way to entertain his 'guests' until the daemon came back.

"I said who are you?!" Kadaj was still asking the walls as to who the voice was.

"How dare it humiliate us in such a manner." Yazoo said while making a feminine stance and brushing his hair with his hand.

"But it was right you know." said Elena.

"Yeah. Youre nothing but a group of fags, yo!" joined Reno.

Kadaj began growling up something fierce. "That's it! No more jokes! This means war!"

Rude, ever being the silent one, responded in a way that was shocking to all. "...Bring it."

At that moment, the Turks and the Silver Haired Men began an epic battle with lots of special effects, high-flying moves and hair pulling. Shots were fired, slashes were made, Pyramids were casted, even Bahamut SIN made a brief appearance. It was chaos, madness, and overall pointless.

The author, however...

"WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON!!!??"

Everyone stopped fighting and turned to the direction of the author, who looked very, very pissed. During the standstill, Reno took a cheap shot and kicked Yazoo in the crotch, but it didn't hurt him...

"...Alright." the author goes to Reno and takes the lance out of his back. He skillfully twirls it around his neck and readies a battle position. "Let's play."

The author charges to the group and lashes everyone into the air. He then proceeds to jump in the air, and slash everyone in a quick fashion, similar to Cloud's Omnislash in Advent Children. All of the author's victims fall to the ground as he lands perfectly.

Again Reno was the first to get up, despite his already critical wounds, and checked himself as everyone else stood up.

"Hey, yo! You missed!"

Then in a consecutive method, Reno's coat was ripped to shreds, letting all the DVDs he planned to steal land on the ground, Rude's glasses were cracked in half, Elena lost an ear, Yazoo's hair was cut all the way to his scalp, Loz seemed perfecly fine, and Kadaj was decapitated.

Yep, decapitated.

Yazoo felt the smoothness of his scalp when he noticed Kadaj having no head. "OMG, you killed Kadaj!"

Loz, sort of happy that he was the only one spared, began to cry again when he Kadaj's head next his feet. "You bastard!"

"Man this guy is crazy! Let's get the hell out of hear, yo!"

Everyone agreed and ran off through the giant hole that is the doorway, but not before Reno stole Advent Children and Elena took the Friends DVDs she was watching earlier.

"Phew...finally it's over." The author lowers his lance as he looks around his room and notices that it is in a mess...again. "This place never stays clean. And what's taking daemon so long?"

Meanwhile, in the Lifestream...

It seems that daemon was to busy flirting with his target.

_"So what do you say we go up together and rule the world as one?"_

"Hmm...very tempting." said a whacked up Jenova "Very tempting, indeed."

Having just appeared from the land of the living, Kadaj was sulking until he saw Jenova. "Mother? Mother! I finally found you!"

_"Mother? You didn't tell me you had kids!"_

Jenova began doing the shifty-eyes. "Oh, don't worry. I only have a few...hundred."

_"...I see."_ the daemon considered this threat as more of an obstacle, and he shrugged. _"Doesn't bother me much."_

Kadaj made a jealous face as he noticed his Mother oogling over a wreched beast. "Hey, muse, stay away from Mother!"

_"...Did you just say...muse?"_

"And what if I did?"

Jenova sighed as one of her sons was trying to ruin her date...again. "Hey! How dare you insult your possible future father!"

_"Looks like someone needs a beating..."_ the daemon starts to growl very loudly.

"...meep."

The daemon proceeds to tearing Kadaj apart while Jenova watches and chants for more. A sick and twisted couple they are, don't you think?

* * *

**It's pretty long, but hey. It's good, right?**

**Start PMing me or review to request a hit!**

**Please read and review! **


	5. Reno

**Okay, this is the first skit to have a special appearance! Yay! Now, you may not know right away who it is, but if you read closely, and if you know that person well, you can figure it out...I think. You know who you are...whoever you are! **

**This skit was requested by Flippykills2 and Aranae. Enjoy!**

**Diclaimer: I, he who stands before ye, owns naught but his own tongue. **

* * *

It is a beautiful day, or was. The author was too busy attending class to have enjoyed its beauty, but he figured life's a bitch and lived with it. His last class was finally over, and he set out to his humble dorm room, or whatever's left of it. 

"Man, that professor wouldn't shut up! He just kept saying the same thing over and over again!"

The author, being who he is, forgot that he was out in public and was now being eyed by all bystanders, a few mutters here and there.

"What?" He pushed back his hair, revealing something attached to his ear. "Bluetooth."

A bunch of "Oh"'s were heard and they went on with their not so exciting lives.

"_Didn't you just find that on the ground when you left class?"_

"Yeah, and?"

"…_Never mind. So where to now?"_

"Home, where else?" The author then remembered something about said home, which made him more pissed than he already was.

"That's right. It's a complete mess thanks to those a-holes that showed up last week!" He kicks a trash can to release his anger and it lands on a red Ferrari, setting off an alarm. "Speaking of which, how did it go with Jenova?"

The daemon let out a sigh so loud that students passing by heard it. The author had to say it was his stomach.

"…_I don't want to talk about it."_

"Eh, alright. Just make sure you keep your emo cloud away from me."

By this time, the author finally reached the door to his room, which was the only thing he managed to replace after the invasion of characters. "I have a lot of work to-" before he finished, he had already opened the door and was in complete shock at what he saw.

His room was clean.

The bookshelf was filled with books rather than bits of hair and flesh, the television no longer had a hole on it, the chair and bed looked brand new despite the fact they were lit on fire, his computer desk, which somehow survived, still lacked a computer because his broke prior to the attack, but he let that slide, and his small kitchen was a kitchen again instead of the giant hole that it was.

"…Do?"

"_Wow! The only time your place looked like this was before you moved in."_

The author ignored that insult and instead looked over his miracle-ly restored room.

"How did this? Who could have…Hm?"

As to answer his question, the author found a small note on the computer table. It read:

I felt like playing the role of 'good friend'

And I cleaned your room for you!

Hope you like the set up

And you owe me big!

-Mystical Fairy Chick

"Who's Mystical Fairy Chick?"

Suddenly, a bright light appeared from the doorway as smoke covered everything. The author was grateful that he wasn't asthmatic. As the smoke faded away and the light dimmed down only a little, the author could see that the light was a person, a woman to be more precise, wearing a cowboy hat and sunglasses, most notable of all was the source of the light; a freakishly bright cloak.

"Who are you?" The author said while shielding his eyes from the light. "If you're looking for Jenova's Head, it's not here."

"Now, now, is that any way to say hi to a friend?"

The light person reached behind the cloak and moved a dial that said "Divine" to "Glitter" The cloak then dimmed completely, save for a few glitter spots.

"I am the Mystical Fairy Chick. I have come here to aid you on your quest to fight evil."

The author looked confused, and the cowboy-or rather cowgirl-fairy remembered something. "Oops! Sorry! Wrong person! Actually, I just came to visit when I saw your place all in ruins, so I used my mystical fairy powers to restore it all to its greatness!"

"Uh…thanks, but I really don't know who you are."

The Mystical Fairy Chick involuntarily twitched an eye at the author's words, but then she remembered something else. "Oh, right!" She came closer to his ear, whispering. "My real name is whisper, whisper, whisper but I'm like this for incognito purposes."

"Oh now I know you! We're working on that one story together! Man, don't I feel like an idiot!"

"_You can say that again."_

"Shut up."

A small laugh came from Mystical Fairy Chick, as strands of blond hair begin to cover her shades. "Well, anyway, I need to ask. What the hell happened here?"

The author let out his own sigh knowing that he must relive that memory. "Well, you see…"

Just then, there was a knock on the door. Well, not a knock, but more like a thud from someone's head hitting the door which caused it to open, and reveal who that someone is.

"Wait a hic minute…this isn't wh-where I parked my hic car!" came a familiar and drunk voice.

The author and Mystical Fairy Chick turned to face the door to see a man who obviously had too much to drink. He looked as if he just came out of a brawl and his red hair was so messy that several twigs were tangled in the strands.

"…because he showed up along with his pals and tore the place up!" the author yelled, irritated that the drunk man he knew as Reno was back.

Said drunk turned his attention to the dwellers of the room, his eyes going straight to the female of the two. "Heeey, pretty thang. hic" Reno managed to place his hand around Mystical Fairy Chick, who covered her nose to block off the hard liquor smell. "H-how about we hic go some-where private and I can sho yoo my EMR!"

The author had the sudden urge to throw up, and he did just that as he ran to the bathroom. Mystical Fairy Chick, however, broke off of Reno's rather flimsy hold and puked all over his already ruined suit. She then used her mystical fairy powers to make Reno sober.

"Huh? What's going on?" His nose catches a whiff of something fierce and he looks down at his suit. "Why am I covered in puke? Last thing I remember was getting hammered in a bar, not in…a…" Reno looked around his surrounding, and was in shock. He knew where he was, someplace he didn't want to be in again, ever since…

"Oh, man, I don't remember eating any corn…?" the author eyed Reno who was having a panic attack.

"Oh, God, it's you, yo! That crazy bastard from before!" He ran behind Mystical Fairy Chick and hugged her tightly. "Please don't let him get me miss! If you help me, I'll…" Reno moved some blond strands away from the ear and he whispered his plan to Mystical Fairy Chick. From what the author could see from Mystical Fairy Chick's blushing and giggling, he knew it had something to do with sex.

It always had something to do with sex when it comes to Reno.

Or drinking. Or killing someone. One of those.

"Reno," the author began, "You are a highly-skilled assassin. So skilled you can kill a man with your pinky. Knowing that, why do you hide behind a fairy?"

"Because she smells pretty."

"Yeah, man." Mystical Fairy Chick moved closer to the author, with Reno following after. "He said that if you don't mess with him, he'll owe me santorum!" she gave a fangirlish squeal, making the author's ear's bleed.

"…_That's what Jenny said she'd want to do."_ The daemon said aloud, the author too busy wiping the blood off his ears. _"But then she…she!"_

Mystical Fairy Chick stared into a wall, since there was nothing else to stare at. "Jenny?"

"Don't ask." The author threw away the blood-soaked rag outside his room, the door was still open, where the owner of the red Ferrari stepped on it and tripped. "It's a long story."

"Well anyway, Reno," Mystical Fairy Chick turned to face Reno, but was surprised at what she saw. He was out by the doorway flirting with some skimpy sorority girls despite him looking like a hobo and having puke all over his suit. Maybe sorority girls are into that?

"So I'll pick you up at 8:00pm, ok, yo?" Reno was about to receive a sheet of paper containing an address and number when the door shut itself hard, whacking Reno's hand. "Ow! What's the deal, yo?!"

"RENO!!!" Mystical Fairy Chick reached behind her cloak and moved the knob back to "Divine" and also pulled out a sawed-off shotgun. Everyone but her was blinded, since she had sunglasses on.

"Wait, baby, I can explain! They were hitting on me! I swear!"

"_Uh…I think this is the best time to head on over to the restroom."_

"You're not going to hear this much, but I agree." The author made a run for the bathroom and closed the door. All that he was able to hear were thuds, blasts, screams of pain, gunshots, lightning, fire, and all kinds of weird noises. After a good 2 hours of torture, it stopped. The author slowly opened the door when the action began anew, and he quickly shut it back.

"How long is this going to take?"

"_Well, know this: Hell hath no fury like a woman's scorn"_

The author sighs from all this that is happening. "I'm stuck in here, aren't I?"

"Yeah."

So after another 22 hours and surviving on tap water and toothpaste, the sounds stopped again. The author crossed his fingers, hoping that would be the end of it, and opened the door.

His room was back like it was this morning, only this time with the addition of two corpses and Mystical Fairy Chick taking a breather on the roasted up chair.

"Hey, there you are! Where have you been?"

"In the restroom for the past 24 hours, living off toothpaste. What the hell happened here?"

Mystical Fairy Chick made a sheepish grin and stood up. "Heheh…looks like I got carried away. And I think I killed someone else, too." She points to a corpse near the doorway. "I think he was saying something about a Ferrari being damaged, but didn't finish since I blew his head off with my shotgun by accident."

"And Reno?"

"I blew both his heads off, and then I poured lava down his throat, and then I shot him on the chest a few times and watched the lava pour out of the bullet holes, and then-"

"Okay, okay." The author interrupted, knowing more than he should. "So what are you going to do about this situation?"

Mystical Fairy Chick tilted her head the question, and began clapping like a child. "I know, I know! I'll use my mystical fairy powers to restore your room again!" And with a simple wave of her hand, the room was back to perfection. Well, save for the two corpses on the floor.

"Thanks, Mystical Fairy Chick. Sorry you didn't get santorum from Reno, since…you know, him being dead and all."

"Oh, don't worry. Hubby came home 16 hours ago, so I'm gonna have some fun tonight!" The author shook his head trying to block off that last part. Then Mystical Fairy Chick made a stern face. "So what are you going to give me, hm? My services aren't free, ya know!"

The author thought for a moment, then began searching through the dead bodies of the former Turk and some guy. "How about…89,568 Gil and keys to a red Ferrari?"

"Deal!" She snatched everything off the author's hands and headed to the door. "Well, nice seeing ya! Don't be a stranger, hear?" she then tilted her cowboy hat and vanished in a puff of smoke, but the author could see she just turned on the smoke machine and exited through the door.

"Well, that was a crazy day, and I'm…12 hours late to my class. Oh, well, I'll just stay here and read a book." The author goes to his bookshelf and searches for a book when he notices one missing.

"…Where's my copy of 'Kama Sutra for Dummies 9th Edition-Revised and Edited by Kuja?"

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**Well, I hope everyone liked it, especially those who requested it. And thanks to the special guest, hoping she liked it as well. Bye for now, and request more victims!**

**Please read and review! **


	6. Palmer

**Hah! You thought it would be done with, right? WRONG! This is staying until it's high and dry, or until it is removed by someone of higher power. **

**This skit is requested by MysticSpiritus. Enjoy!**

** Disclaimer: All I own so far is the restaurant mentioned in this skit. The acronym is another story.**

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A 'ding-dong' noise was made when the fast food restaurant's door opened and a costumer walked in. It was a nice little place. A bit greasy, murky, and smelled an awful lot like chocobos, but nice.

"Hello! Welcome to KFC, Kalm Fried Chocobo! May I take your order?"

"Uh, yeah, I'll take a bucket of chocobo legs and a side of wings."

"_Ooh, ooh, get some chopped beak! I love that stuff!"_

The now revealed author sighed and he continued ordering. "…and one order of chopped beak, please."

"Ooh, adventurous today, aren't we? It'll be 13 Gil please." The author handed the overly chirpy cashier the money. "Thanks! We will give you your order soon!"

He then went to take a seat in one of the many empty tables laid out inside the restaurant. Because of the place's chocobo smell, many people prefer drive-thru. Heck, it's so bad that the cooks in the back had to wear gas masks, and yet the chirpy cashier didn't seem to mind.

He figured she's used to being around chocobos.

"_Chocobo legs and wings? You really are in a piggy mood, aren't ya?"_

"No, I'm just really, really, hungry. Man I can't wait to bite down on one of those thick juicy legs…" The author couldn't help but drool at the mention of his meal. "…and those sub-sized wings! Damn, I'm hungry!"

Around this time, that crazy cashier chick stepped near the author holding a tray currently used to hold a giant bucket of at least 8 chocobo legs, a box with 6 wings, and a small cup of chopped beak. Number of chocobos used for this meal: 4.

"Here you go, sir! Enjoy your meal!" she chirped as she laid the tray down on the table and she began walking away when she started mumbling. "I hope you choke to death, you chocobo eating bastard! Heheh…!"

"What was that?" the author turned around, a wing was already clasped in his jaw.

"Nothing! I said nothing!" she rushed off back behind the counter, leaving behind a trail of chocobo feathers.

"_Crazy chick…just your type."_

"Drop it, daemon. Can't you see I'm eating?" He was already enjoying his 5th leg, and the wings were gone. The chopped beak, however, remained untouched.

"You know, when was the last time you had a girlfriend? Never?"

The author choked on his last leg when he heard what the daemon said and was now fighting for air. He turned to see if the cashier girl would be so kind, but she appeared to have taken sick interest in watching him choke, so he decided fuck it. He banged his head hard on the table, and the piece of chocobo escaped his mouth, failing to take his life. While gasping for air, he could have sworn he heard someone outside of his mind saying 'Damn!', but he let it slide.

"Why must you say stuff like that?" the author said while treating his now bleeding head. "And if you must know, no, I never had one. I mean, the next guy to come in here probably has better chances than I do."

As if on cue, the 'ding-dong' noise rang again as another costumer came in, and to the author's luck, it was a guy. A really, really, REALLY fat guy in a suit and bald head. And to make matters worse, he approached the counter by skipping to it. Yeah, that's right.

Skipping.

"Hello! Welcome to KFC, Kalm Fried Chocobo! May I take your order?"

The obese man shook his head in all directions, as if to see if anyone was around. "Yes, I'll have all the chocobo legs and wings you have!"

"Wow!" the cashier chirped, and it seems that all she does is chirp. "That will be 1,036 Gil, please!"

"On the contrary," the fat man pulled out a weird looking gun from out of nowhere and aimed it at the chirpy chick. "I'll be taking them with no charge." He was about to pull the trigger when he felt someone poking his shoulder, and when he turned around the author was there.

"…Palmer, right?"

The gun-wielding blob nodded.

"You work for Shinra, one of the biggest companies in the face of the planet, and you're an executive at that. Meaning, you have a lot of money, so there is no point in stealing food."

Palmer thought about it for a second, and answered by pulling the trigger at the author.

To the author's luck, nothing happened.

"What? I knew I shouldn't have bought this at the Wall Market! They got cheaply made stuff now that they began outsourcing!" he threw the gun on the greasy floor, shattering it, and fell to his knees in a very overdramatic manner. "Curse you Made in Wutai-ian products!"

Just as fast as he fell he got up, and attempted to jump over the counter in a pathetic attempt to steal the merchandise. The author and the chirpy cashier just stared as Palmer quickly exausted himself getting over the counter, and when he finally did, he fell to the ground, motionless. Either she was taking precaution or just having fun, the chirpy chick grabbed a chocobo leg and started poking the overweight man.

"You think he's dead?" She turned to face the author to see a response.

"I'm guessing no." he pointed to the chocobo leg and noticed Palmer eating it. The cashier let out a wark and picked Palmer up and tossed him outside of the building. Yes, you heard correctly.

Wark.

_"Wow. We get dinner and a show? That's awesome!"_

"Did she just...pick him up and ...threw him?"

_"Yeah, and she clucked too. What's your point?"_

The author couldn't believe how stupid the daemon was acting, but before he could question it even more, a bright light began shining followed by a powerful shockwave that sent the author flying out of the building.

Luckily for the author, Palmer's body broke the fall. Unlucky for him, Palmer liked it.

He quickly got off of the fat man and turned around to the store. It was still intact despite what just happened, but that didn't explain what came out through the doors. It was...

A glowing white chocobo.

It was bigger than your average chocobo, and it was snow white to boot. Not to mention that it had this glowing aura around it which was very reminiscent to someone the author knew. The white bird came closer to the author and Palmer, both staring at the creature with awe. Well, the author was, Palmer probably wanted to know how it tasted.

"You, enemies of the chocobo, you will pay for your sins!"

"You...talk?" the author took a step back, flabbergasted.

"Of course I do. You think that only you primitive humans talk. Hah!"

_"And it has a personality." _

"So who are you?" the author asked, taking another step back in case he had to make a run for it.

"I am known throughout the worlds as the Trickster, guardian of the chocobos! I caught news of this restaurant and, while disguised as a human girl, patiently waited for my enemies. That's where you come in."

"So you're that chirpy cashier girl! No wonder she didn't help me when I was choking! She was you!"

_"They call her the Trickster for a reason, dumbass!"_

"Shut up!"

"Um...miss Trickster...since I didn't eat any chocobo, can I go? I have an appointment at the Honeybee Inn, and if I'm late they'll-"

"Silence, you fat piece of your own filth!" the Trickster warked fiercly, "You both will be punished! And here is how."

With one flap of her wing, the Trickster summoned a machine covered in smoke beside her. As the smoke cleared, it was clear what the machine was.

"A...DDR machine?"

"_What is she going to do? Make you dance until you puke out all the chocobo you ate?"_

"Yes, a DDR machine, and with it you will both dance nonstop until you puke out all the chocobo you digested!"

_"...Oops." _

The author let out a growl of pure anger when something hit him. "Wait, he didn't eat that much, so it wouldn't be fair for me since I have to dance longer and he dances less. I mean, come on! He needs to dance longer! Look at him!" He motioned his hands to display Palmer's fatness.

"Hm...you have a point there. Alright, change of plans. Whoever gets the high score in a game of 5 songs will be spared. The loser will be eaten by me!" How this seemed fair was out of the question. The author didn't have much experience with the dance game, but he knew enough to survive a chocobo's wrath. "You, the fat one. Do you accept the changes?"

"Fine, as long as get to eat more chocobo."

"Oh, you will, in the form of your own puke!"

"It's still considered chocobo, right?"

"Um...uh, yes."

"Woohoo! Let's dance!"

"Ooookay. Now, the songs will be chosen by random. They will be..." the Trickster pushed a button that said 'random' on the machine and 5 songs were chosen. The songs were:

Long Train Runnin' by Bus Stop

Butterfly by SMILE.dk

Xenon by Mr. T (Not that Mr. T!)

Max 300 by Omega

Healing Vision-Angelic Mix by 2mb

"You will now take your places and begin!"

The author and Palmer stood in their dance pads and the game started. And to make it even more challenging, all the songs had random difficulty levels. The first song, Long Train Runnin', was about to begin in Light mode. Easy enough right?

"That wasn't so bad. And I got an A!"

_"So did fatass."_

So far the score was tie. Next song was fan favorite Butterfly in Beginner. The author thought it was too easy, seeing as Palmer had no difficutly with it.

"We're still tied. That's not good."

_"Well you can always suck. That will break that tie."_

"Shut up."

Now the third song, Xenon, was playing in Standard mode. The author loved this song, what with it's retro beats and style, and he managed to beat it, but barely.

"Damn! I got a C! And Palmer got a...B!?"

"Hoho, I am a master at this game. Don't underestimate me because I'm fat!"

"...Not good."

The fourth song was up, and it was the hardest one the author ever danced to. It was even harder in Heavy mode, and that's exactly where it landed on. The author swore, but he figured that Palmer would have trouble with it...right? When he turned to see his opponent in action, he stood corrected.

Palmer was dancing like an arcade maniac! He was moving so quick that he was basically defying every law of physics known to man. Even the Trickster couldn't help but watch as the fat man score an A, while the author being distracted, received an E.

_"WOW!"_

"You said it!"

Palmer's only reply was a twinkle in his eye and a twinkie in his mouth.

The last song brought hope to the author. He knew this song well. This was his favorite song. He has danced to it in every level and has perfected it. No matter what Palmer did, success was inevitable!

...Or so he thought.

"Okay, so by looking at your scores, Palmer you have A, AA, B, A, C." Palmer giggled so hard that his fat began moving like a lava lamp.

The Trickster then moved to the author. "You scored A, AA, C, E, AAA." The author couldn't help but have a smug face. "...So according to this, the winner is...Palmer!"

The author dropped the smug face and replaced it with one that looked like he was hit with a frying pan. He couldn't believe it.

"How could Palmer win at DDR? How!? That's like saying a nerd with no physical skill winning a football scholarship. It just doesn't make sense."

_"Well, he probably had a float materia in his pocket somewhere, but seeing as he is FAT, I have no idea where he would put it." _

"Whoopy!!! I win! I win! I win!" Palmer began doing a victory dance that made the author wish it would all stop. The dancing blob got off the machine, still dancing, and somehow ended up in the middle of the road, when suddenly...

...BAM!!!

An 18-wheeler came rushing by, taking Palmer with it and spreading all of his fat everywhere. There was so much fat that the restaurant was covered completely by it, and only the author and the Trickster were fortunate enough to not get covered.

The Trickster looked around the fat-infested place, seeing that her winner was just run over, and turned to the author. "Well, it seems that, due to events that were beyond my control, you are the winner and thus spared."

"Alright! But you know, I learned something today. I learned that it's wrong to eat another creature of intelligence, and instead we should befriend them and love them." the Trickster nodded and shed a tear. "It is also important that the human race must stop being so dominating and-NOW!!!" A cloud hovered over the Trickster as it consumed her, the glowing feathers dimmed by darkness.

"What is the meaning of this?"

_"...I never got my chopped beak, and now I'm going to get it. That and more." _

The only thing the author could hear were the daemon's roars and the screeching warks of a chocobo.

"Heh...she fell for the one of the oldest tricks in the book. The most common is never have a land war with Asia, but the slightly known one is: Don't go up against the author when death is on the line! Hahahah-Ow!"

A shiny marble hit the author's head and it landed in his hand. Upon further view, it was a magic materia slightly covered in fat.

"Hey, he did have a float materia!"

* * *

**Heheh! It was pretty good, right? I would take this chance to note that DDR is not owned by me, nor are the songs mentioned.**

**Now request more victims! Remember: A victim a day keeps the daemon away!**

**Please read and review! **


	7. Heidegger

**Whoo-hoo! Another victim to decimate, discriminate, humiliate, and eradicate!**

**And to make things more interesting, I will have another special guest to aid in the killing! Who will it be you ask? Well, I can't use their real names, so I'll switch some letters around. Let's see if you can figure it out.**

**This skit is requested by MysticSpiritus. Enjoy! **

**Disclaimer: I own nothing involved with the special guest, except a few tracks (hint, hint).**

* * *

_"...And that was how the chicken ended up in your bed."_

"Okay, that solves that. But that still doesn't explain why you had to disturb me in class and make me walk out to an empty field."

The author was currently standing in said field, away from nearby ears to hear his heated argument with the daemon. The dark spirit had decided to interrupt him in class with 'urgent info' as he put it that made the author get out of his desk and head to the field. He didn't even want to think of the reaction his professor probably got when he accidentally yelled 'Fuck off daemon, I'm busy!'. He figured it wasn't going to be pretty and left it at that.

_"Because like I said, there's some info you have to hear."_

"Is this about the incident in that frat party where all the beer 'mysteriously' blew up simultaneously?" The author was still mad about that event. He didn't go to that party, but somehow a trail of spilled beer led to his dorm room which made most believe he was the culprit. They were part right.

_"Uh,no. Word in the lifestream is that a military organization is heading here to try and occupy the school."_

"Why would they want to do that, if it was true?"

_"How do I know? They were bored of losing to a real military and want to let out some anger at college students?"_

Before the author could respond to anything that the daemon said, he felt someone tapping him on the shoulder, and when he turned around he saw a man in a soldier outfit.

"Hi, how are you, you doin' good? Good. Listen, I just came here to say that we are now occupying the area, so yeah." the soldier said quickly as the author was taking a while to catch up.

"Wait, what? You and what army?"

"That army." he points to a militia of soldiers camped only a few feet away from the school, armed and ready, accompanied with tanks and such. The author notices a couple of soldiers raising a flag, marked with an insignia that he recognized instantly.

"Shinra? Shinra is occupying the school? Why?"

"Well, I could tell you, but then I'll be, like, charged with treason and killed. So instead, how about I take you to the head honcho and you can ask him yourself." The soldier was walking back to camp, signaling the author to follow.

The author had a great deal of suspicion, but he figured he won't get any answers just by standing around and headed towards the camp.

The soldiers from before opened the entrance to a big tent and signaled the author to enter. When he went inside, he saw a rather bulk and gruff looking man with a thick beard trying to look important by looking over maps. The author, after taking a closer look, noticed that the man's 'maps' consisted of a Monopoly board, a few hentai pictures and a mail-order bride form. The gruff man looked up from his 'busy' work and noticed the author standing there.

"Sir, this young man here wants to know why we are initiating this attack at this teaching facility."

"Teaching facility? Oh, right, right. You didn't tell him anything did you?" asked the gruff man, his voice thunderous and hearty.

"No, sir. I'm not that stupid."

"Well, good. Carry on, George."

"...My name's Sam."

"Whatever, Pete, just get the hell out of here."

The soldier left, leaving the author bewildered at what was going on. The gruff man stood up from where he was sitting and approached him, and it seemed awkward that the gruff man only reached the author's stomach.

_"Heh...isn't he short. What is he, a troll?" _

"So you wanna know why I'm doin' this, huh?" said the gruff man, lifting his head in a sharp angle to make eye contact with the author. "Here's why; Because I can! Gyuhuhuhuhuhuh!!!"

His laughter echoed through the tent that it began falling apart. A photo of a mountain fell down revealing a stack of adult magazines hidden behind it, reading 'Property of Heidegger. Back off!'. Said gruff man ran to the scene and placed the photo back in its place.

"...Ahem, now where was I? Ah, yes. Gyuhuhuhu!"

"So this is just a random activity? There is no true purpose for you to be here?" The author was getting real pissed.

"Ah, quit your bitchin', college kid!" Heidegger yelled, his already thunderous voice increasing tenfold. "It was either this or a Jenova's Witness convention, and I am NOT going through that again!"

The author was just about to lose it, when suddenly the same soldier from before, the self-proclaimed Sam, rushed in the tent.

"Sir, we're being under attack!"

"By who?!"

"It appears to be a giant monster with wings!"

The author thought about it for a while and began to chuckle. It seems the daemon snuck out again and decided to have himself a meal. If it was something else, the author would have to lay low for a while until the heat is gone, but seeing his situation, he'll allow it. Suddenly, many screams were heard outside of the tent as the author, Sam, and Heidegger just stood there. Well, the author was, since he knew what was going on, Sam had curled himself in a ball formation and began rocking back and forth, and Heidegger took this opportunity to stash all of his porn mags and hentai pictures into a safe. Just then, the tent flew off and the author saw what was once a calm and peaceful field was now a blood drenched pool of flesh and bone. Sam passed out from the sight of it, and Heidegger just shrugged.

_"Oh, man. That was good."_

"Your back. How was it?"

_"Like steak grilled to perfection, only raw at the same time. Heheh..." _

Heidegger turned to face the author, and then the school. "Well, it seems I won't be sending in an army to destroy the school." He cackled again like he usually did. "So instead, I'll send this!" He ran to his desk and pushed a red button, and the ground began to shake. From above, a giant robot fell from the sky, and before it crashed, specifically placed boosters soften it's landing. It was big and red, having the physique of a gorilla but with 4 arms, not 2. It stretched out an arm and grabbed Heidegger and led it the cockpit. "Gyuhuhuhuhuhuhuh!!! Meet the Proud Clod! With this machine, I will decimate everything in my way!"

"All this for a damn school?" the author thought. "I mean, come on. A giant robot is a bit cliche. It freakin' looks like a Power Rangers show, minus the technicolored teenagers with color-coded outfits."

"You're just saying that because you can't do anything about it." The daemon stated as Proud Clod, with Heidegger as its pilot, headed towards the school in a rather slow and stalling way.

"Oh, but I do, daemon. I do." The author reached down his pocket and pulled out his cellphone and dialed a number. "Let's just hope they pick up."

Meanwhile, in an office somewhere on the other side of the world...

"So how you like to help me make a song using one of your songs and I get all the credit because no one knows who you guys are?" said a wealthy looking African-American rap artist who will not be named because I'm afraid of being sued.

The techno musicians were chatting amongst themselves before one of the duo told their decision to a lawyer of sorts. The lawyer got up and faced the rap artist. "They said, 'No way in hell.'"

"Snickerdoodle!" the rap artist threw a whimsy fit and stormed out of the room. The musicians shrugged when one of them got a phone call. He answered, responded to the questions, and hung up.

"So, what's up?" said one of the musician, his golden LED helmet lighting up with anticipation. The other, wearing a silver LED helmet, walked over to the storage closet and pulled out two guitars, one red and one blue. He threw the red one to his band partner and stood by the door.

"We're needed."

And now, back to the present!

The Proud Clod had moved nonstop since we last saw it, and it was still nowhere near the school. Why? Because it was freakin' slow! The author even managed to evacuate the school and everyone was now out of harm's way, and still the Proud Clod was miles away.

"You'd think he would have some sort of booster system or something and he could fly over here. What kind of robot is that?"

_"Well, isn't it a good thing that he's taking his sweet time? Or do you want him to destroy this place?"_

The author was about to answer, when he noticed the Proud Clod was gone, only to reappear a few feet away from the schoolgrounds.

"Gyuhuhuhuh! I have to thank you college kid!" Heidegger said over the intercom. "If I didn't overhear what you said about that booster thing, it would have been ages til I got here. I seriously need to upgrade to Proud Clod ver. 5.1.2. It has a much faster and stronger body. Even a preinstalled microwave!"

_"You and your big mouth. Way to go!"_

"Ah, shut up, daemon!"

_"No you shut-wait, what's that over there?"_

"Hmm?" The author stares into the sky and notices a flying ship that closely resembles a guitar. "Ah, there here."

The guitar ship nears the school and a beam of light hits the surface right near the author. Two figures came down from the light and landed on the ground, their LED helmets turning on and showing emoticons towards the author.

"Hello, Kaft Munk. It's been a while."

"Same here, kid. So is this the problem?" The silver member of Kaft Munk asked, pointing at the giant robot.

"Straight to the point as always. I see you even brought those." The author was eyeing the band's choice of weapon: their guitars.

"Best weapon in the world." stated the golden member. "Now let's do this!"

Now entering kick-ass fight scene between Kaft Munk and Proud Clod.

Kaft Munk rushed towards the Proud Clod, which had activated it's arm machine gun. The golden one spun his guitar around like a shield, deflecting all the bullets, and the silver one slashed the arm off with his guitar. Now down one arm, Proud Clod began throwing a furry of punches to the band members, which they dodged easily, and then the members switched their guitars into guitar machine guns and blasted bullets everywhere. Most of them connected with the plate shield in the center and it broke. Proud Clod then readied its flamethrower knees, and when the fire spewed out, it hit Kaft Munk on the mark.

"Gyuhuhuhuhuh!!! I got them! They're deep-fried now! Gyuhuhuhu...huh?"

When the fire cleared, Kaft Munk were still there. There bodies showed the marks the fire left, but they expressed no reaction. The gold one looked Proud Clod in the face, which is where the camera is at, and removed his helmet, showing nothing but circuits.

"We're robots, and we aren't going anywhere." He put his helmet back on and the fight resumed.

Again, Proud Clod attempted to crush the band members with its fists, only to miss and lose one by another guitar slash. Heidegger was getting desperate, and he remembered Proud Clod's ultimate weapon. Using the booster, Proud Clod made a big hop backwards and dropped to its knees, placed its two remaining hands on the ground, and exposed the twin cannon on its back. Kaft Munk knew this was going to be a problem, so they turned to their ultimate weapon: music.

While the cannon was charging, the band began playing a song, guitar strings being hit and a cool melody coming after. The song in question was 'Aerodynamic', and as they neared the solo, the hilt of their guitars began glowing with radiant energy. The Proud Clod's cannon was fully charged, and Heidegger pushed the fire button. Kaft Munk finally reached the climax of the song and their guitars released the radiant energy in the form of a cannon blast.

What happened? Imagine the solo part of 'Aerodynamic' being played while the Proud Clod's twin cannon and Kaft Munk's guitars are both shooting massive energy at each other that it's in a stand-still, but only after the song continues that the tide turns and the Proud Clod's power is being pushed away. Eventually, the guitar energy grows so big that the whole Proud Clod is consumed and is destroyed, Heidegger with it.

Now ending kick-ass fight scene between Kaft Munk and Proud Clod.

Winner: Kaft Munk.

The victors walked back to where the author was, who was wearing sunglasses, sitting on a Lazy-Boy, eating noodles, and having a videocamera out.

"Wow! That was intense! Thanks, guys!"

_"Now that's what I call a serious can of whoop ass!" _

Both members nodded and the silver one approached the author. "Next time make sure it's more challenging."

"Alright."

"Oh...my God!"

All three men turned around to see a man in a bloodied soldier uniform standing there, eyes glued to the band members like a fangirl on their favorite game character. The author leaned closer and knew who it was. "Sam?"

"Yeah. When I woke up, everyone was gone and this HUGE light showed up in this direction and I followed it and look!" He points at the musicians. "It's Kaft Munk!" He approaches the gold one with a paper and pen mysteriously in hand. "Can I get your autograph?"

"Sure. Your name?"

"Samuel."

"...Here you go."

"Alright, thanks!" Sam was dancing around as Kaft Munk boarded their ship, giving a goodbye wave to the author. Suddenly, Sam stopped dancing.

"Wait a minute! They spelled my name wrong! The U goes before the E!" He raised his fists to the sky as the guitar ship flew off. "Curse you, Kaft Munk! Curse Yoooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo-" he intakes some breath."ooooooooooooooooooooooooouuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu!!!"

* * *

**For the record, the name Kaft Munk was created by MysticSpiritus. Now she has no reason to be mad at me! And before anyone asks, Sam is just a name I thought up at the last minute. He isn't some guy in real life (that I know)**

**Hope everyone likes it! And keep sending me victims!**

**Please read and review! **


	8. Cait Sith feat Reeve

**I remember my high school Calculus teacher once said that I had a dry sense of humor. And that's what these skits are all about. Dry humor with spoof references and parody situations. What did you expect?**

_**Better.**_

**Shut up!**

**This skit was requested by Aranae and BlueFoxofWater1569. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I own Nothing! Hah!**

* * *

A young man was standing near a shabby mansion which lay on the outskirts of town. He looked down at the sheet of paper in his hand, and then back at the mansion, then at the paper again, and at the mansion again. Why would anyone want to meet him here?

"_Why are you here again?"_

The young author checked his surroundings again and still doubt filled his mind. "I found a note in my room saying to show up here at this time, but I have no clue who sent it."

"_Another one of your stalkers?"_ the daemon teased.

"Probably. You know how many there are who either want me dead or for themselves. Well, only one way to find out for sure." He shrugged off any worry and proceeded to the crumbling door.

When he entered he was greeted with rotting furniture and ROUS's that gave even the daemon an internal shudder. He continued inside and headed up the stairs, following what seems to be the only light source within this forsaken place. As he reached the top, he saw a lit candle set near a door, and knew that whoever it was that wanted to meet him was on the other side, so the author pushed forward and opened the door.

"I see you've finally come. I was beginning to think you wouldn't show up."

The author flinched when he heard the voice in the bright room. There was a giant arc window at the back wall, sunlight pouring inside every corner. The only contents in the room consisted of a giant oak desk set by the window and a leather chair behind that. On the left and right walls there were only doors, two on each wall. The author figured that the voice came from the chair, which was facing the window.

"What's the matter? Is this the first time you've been with a man? I promise you that you'll not be disappointed."

The author's eyes went as wide as saucers when he heard what the voice said. He didn't understand what that sentence meant, and by all honesty, he didn't want to understand anything right now.

"What the fuck!?"

"_What kind of sick people stalk you? I mean seriously!"_

"I don't know, and I don't wan to know."

As if nothing else can make this situation any weirder, the chair began rotating and after making a 180 degree turn, it was revealed who the sick fuck was. Sitting on the chair was Reeve, fully clothed to the author's luck, with a Cait Sith doll on his lap, sleeping. He looked up, saw the author, and freaked out.

"What!? You're not the prostitute I ordered! How are you!?"

The author was about to panic as well, but stopped when he heard Reeve's intention. At that moment, his face went through several changes. It went from confused, surprised, disgust, and finally awareness.

"Wait, so you didn't send for me?"

"Hell no! I don't even know you."

"So you're not a stalker?"

"No!"

"And instead you were waiting on a $500 gal-pal to satisfy your every need for at least 3 minutes?"

"Ye-yes." Reeve answered hesitantly.

The author couldn't help but laugh.

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!!!"

Reeve appea9red ticked off and stood up, waking the Cait Sith doll in the p9rocess. "Hey! Stop laughing at my expense!"

The author wiped a few tears with one hand and held his hurting stomach with the other. "But, but you're such an idiot that it's just too funny! Hahah!" He fell back down the floor bursting with laughter and pain.

"_This is better than that time the streaker ran through campus naked when it was freezing cold!"_

"Oh, so now the muses are mocking me? What next, some completely random event will occur?"

As if on cue, the Scooby-Doo gang ran through one of the doors on the left wall towards one of the doors on the right. Both Reeve and the author just stared at the doors and wondered what the hell that was.

"What the hell was that?"

See?

"_Wait, did he just call me a muse?"_

"I believe so. Sure has been a while."

A dark cloud formed next to the author and began to take the shape of a great beast with mighty wings. It stood tall and shadowed over the business man.

"_About time."_

"Hah! You'd think I'm going down without a fight? Cait Sith, attack!"

The cat doll jumped on the desk and made a snarl at the daemon, and then it charged with its fists forward.

In less time than it takes to type in a letter on a keyboard, Cait Sith was ripped apart, gears and other small metallic pieces covered the empty floor. The author was standing there with disappointed written on his face.

"That's it? That's all you have to offer? No special death beam or melt ray or something?"

"_That was a bit too easy. Where's the challenge, man?"_

"Oh, you want challenge? Then try this number!" Reeve pushed a secret button underneath the desk and all the doors opened. What came out was not the scariest of moments but creepy none the less.

Horde after horde of Cait Sith dolls came from all directions, each looking pissed and ready to fight, whatever that might be. The author noticed that the room was much bigger than before, seeing how many of those cat dolls managed to fit. Reeve began chuckling manically and raised his hand, preparing to snap his fingers.

"Ah, hell."

Snap.

The Cait Sith dolls began lunging themselves at the author and daemon, little claws and fangs targeting exposed areas. The daemon quickly disposed of a few with its mighty claws, and the author somehow had in his possession dual katanas, which he used to rake through the ranks of those menacing cats. However, no matter how many they destroy, the room seems to stay full.

"Dammit! For every one we kill, two take its place!"

"_Ah, quit your bitchin'. It could be worse."_

And it did get worse. The dolls began using a common cat technique: meowing. However, because Cait Sith suffers from some speech problem, the meows ended with an 's' pronunciation. So instead of making a 'meow' sound, they made what sounded like a 'muse' sound. So yeah, it got bad.

Real bad.

"_Aurgh, I can't take it anymore! Grahh!!!"_

The daemon became more vicious in his attacks that he ran off into one of the rooms in the right, the door closing behind him. All that was heard was a LOT of stuff being torn apart. The author cursed for being left alone, but at least he was facing less dolls than before. He kept swinging his katanas at the Cait Sith dolls with such force and skill that it put that bitch Sora to shame.

"Hah! You call that dual wielding? I can swing my keyblades way better than-"

"Shut up!"

With his brief appearance coming to an end, Sora was round house kicked by the author, sending him flying through the arc window, glass shattering everywhere. Out of curiosity, Reeve went to the window to see what happened to the stupidly dressed idiot and quickly turned back and puked out his lunch. That was an image that was going to stay in his head for years to come.

The author noticed that during Reeve's little puke fest, the Cait Sith dolls moved slower than usual, and that's when it hit him.

"Of course! Reeve controls them with his brain! So if I want to stop the cats," he turned his attention to the now recovering Reeve. "…Then I have to destroy his brain." He ran past the few dolls that were in his way and made it by the desk when the cats began attacking again. Reeve took notice of how close the author was and backed off towards the window.

"So you've figured out how to stop them, ay? No matter what you do, I'll never-Guagh!"

Reeve felt a bloodied arm getting tight around his neck that it pushed him a bit closer to the window, broken pieces still standing were piercing his back.

"Oh, wait a minute. You're not that guy who kicked me. Then where's-"

"Shut the hell up and die already!"

The author leaped over the table and rabied dolls with both swords darting downward, almost reminiscent of that one scene from that one movie he saw about Spartans. When he landed, his blades hit their mark. One was lodged into the skull of Reeve, and the other was inserted into that whiner Sora right between the eyes. With one push from the author, both bodies fell backwards and joined the rest of the window outside. He then turned to see if his plan worked, and sure enough, the Cait Sith were inoperational.

"Glad that's over. Daemon?"

The author went to the door that he remembered the daemon getting shut into and opened it. When he did, a lot of Cait Sith parts spilled over to where the author was standing, and he could have sworned he saw a severed head amonst the ruins. As he looked on inside the room, he found a corner all drenched in blood and the daemon was there, rubbing his stomach.

"The hell have you been? I was fighting those bastard cats and had to finish off that Reeve guy to stop them entirely. What were you doing?"

The daemon's only answer was the regurgitation of a dog collar.

"_Just know that those medaling kids won't be messing with us again."_

"They never did."

"_And never will."_

The author let out an annoyed sigh and the daemon got up and entered his home inside the mind of the author.

"So what are you gonna do about the non broken Cait Sith dolls? Break them?"

The author looked over at the hundreds of cats that remained and an idea sparked in his mind.

"No, I have a better idea."

---

"Step right up! Come get your own dancing Cait Sith doll! Just load up music from your MP3 and watch it dance! Only 50 Gil!"

The author was standing next to his dorm room where a crappy table lay filled with the Cait Sith robots, several dancing like maniacs.

_"Don't you think you should tell them that they were once used to kill stuff."_

"Hey. What the customers don't know won't hurt them...much."

* * *

**See? Nothing but dry humor with spoof references and parody situations. What do you get?**

**_Crap._**

**...Shut up.**

**_Please read and review. _**


	9. Cloud & Tifa

**Hello, readers! Do I have some interesting news for you. For the first, and possibly only time, I've put two characters in one skit! And before anyone says anything, no Cait Sith didn't count because him and Reeve are basically the same life force. So yeah. Anyway, the reason being that Cloud and Tifa are together is because of the ideas that the ones who requested them had. They know who they are and what they wanted. And I delivered!**

**This skit is requested by Aranae, Turk 4 Life, and DawnRunner 95. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: All I own is this weird universe that this all takes place in.**

* * *

"No. Wait, stop. Don't! No! NOOOO!!"

**This game's winner is: Jigglypuff!**

The author was pissed. He had lost 50 times in a row, using the best characters the game had to offer, but he always fell to the mighty power of the pink puffy pokemon.

"Dammit! Why can't I beat that damn balloon!? Do I suck that badly?"

"_Is it a rhetorical question? 'Cause if not, then I can give a full honest answer."_

The pissed off college guy merely ignored the daemon's attempt to own him and just turned off his Gamecube. Yes, a Gamecube. Why does he have a Gamecube? Because he respects the classics. Represent!

…Ahem.

"_Well now that that's over, what do you want to do now?"_ the daemon asked, though why it sounded like he wanted to socialize with the author is beyond anyone's reach. The author, actually paying attention this time, scanned his dorm room for some sort of activity to do.

"Let's see…I've already finished all of my assignments for all my classes, read every book on my bookshelf, passed every game I have, and my computer is telling me I have mail and-wait what?"

The author goes to his computer desk where his computer was, obviously, and sure enough, an e-mail was in his inbox. He opened it and was both confused and mildly disturbed as to what the e-mail said.

"_What does it say?"_

"It says that: 'All your base are belong to us. You have no chance to survive, make your time.' I have no idea what it means but apparently someone is trying to say that they're coming here."

"_What? What kind of moronic imbeciles will send that to somebody and then show up moments later?"_

As if on cue, there was a knock on the door.

"Dammit, daemon! You have to quit doing that!"

"_Hey it's not my fault that these things happen right when I say they do. Now go answer the door. Maybe it's some really hot woman with a nice pet for dessert."_

"Yeah, right. Like that will ever happen." He got up from the desk and went to open the door. When he did, he was greeted by a beautiful woman clad in white with what appeared to be a shaking pet chocobo.

In a tux.

"Fucking…" He was about to finish when he realized he had guests. "…How may I help you?"

"Yes, hello. My name is Tifa Lockheart STRIFE (She said that part in a high pitch) and this is my husband Cloud STRIFE (Again, high pitch) We're NEWLYWEDS and I was wondering if you had a phone we could use."

"_She married a chocobo?"_

"No, that's just his hair…I think."

"See, our WEDDING limo crashed to a tree because the driver died from blood loss and we need to call a tow truck and get to our HONEYMOON."

At this time the author was rubbing his inner ears rapidly to ease the pain from the high pitch screeches. "Why do you have to scream for every word dealing with marriage?"

The young bride made a fairy-tale sigh and looked at her husband, who just kept shaking and scratching his arm raw. "Because I'm finally MARRIED to the one man I love and will always love! Right, Cloud?"

Her blond husband's only reply was "Man, I can't cut myself with these stubby fingernails! Now I'm even more sad!"

The author knew that this was going to be a loooooong night, so he took his chances and let the couple in while he grabbed his house phone. Tifa made herself quite comfortable on the single seat leather chair, the long skirt of her dress pulled up to form a hugging bundle, chanting about how Cloud was now hers. Said swordsman was sitting on the computer chair, using that 5 ft. long blade of his, which it will never be known where he pulled it out of that tux, and began slicing his arm. The author couldn't help but get another glance of the surreal couple and went back to the phonebook looking for a tow truck service.

"_Great. The bride is over-obsessive and the groom is emo. What a match, I tell ya."_ The daemon said sarcastically. _"Oh, that reminds me, are you gonna ask them if they were the ones that sent you that funky e-mail?"_

"I really doubt they did it, daemon. Besides, it probably was a prank. No reason to get overworked about it." The author found a number and dialed it, heard a tone, and gave the phone to Tifa, who was busy tearing off the flower petals from her dress.

"Ugh, these stupid flowers. They remind me of that stupid bitch Aeris. Hey Cloud, do you remember Aeris, that flower girl?"

"Yes." Her husband answered, a small smile forming on his lips despite all the blood that was oozing from his arm. "Yes I do."

"Whatever. Here's the phone. The tow truck service is on the other side." He gave the obsessed bride the phone and walked towards Cloud. "Hey Cloud. Mind if you stop cutting yourself?"

"Are you saying that because you understand my pain?"

A quick laugh escapes the mind of the author. "No, I'm saying that because I have blood pools on my floor."

Cloud lowers his head and a dark aura surrounds him. "Oh…I see."

"_Man this is pathetic. He's not worth eating."_

The daemon was right. This was supposed to be Cloud, leader of AVALANCHE and hero to all. Not some wussy emo kid cutting himself with a giant razor blade. And let's not forget Tifa. She was the backbone of the group and kicked ass. Now it seems she only wants Cloud's emo ass. At least he didn't have to deal with them long.

"Oh, thanks for letting me use the phone. They said that no one works at night so we'll have to wait until the morning. Till then, me and my husband will stay here for the night."

Fucking A'.

And so for the next few hours, the night commenced with Cloud still sitting at the computer desk, only now instead of cutting himself he began surfing the Internet, Tifa going to a nearby store to get some 'unmentionable objects that will be used on Cloud' as the brunette bride put it, and the author was sitting on the petal covered chair flipping through TV channels.

**Head on, apply directly to the forehead. Head on, apply directly to the forehead. Head on-**

Click.

**Get 5 chocobo legs and get a side order of chopped beak FREE! Only at Kalm Fried Chocobo!**

Click.

**I can't believe you cheated on me, Brent. I was always loyal to you, but you-**

Click.

**This just in. People and businesses alike have been getting strange e-mails lately. The most common is: 'All your base are belong to us. You have no chance to survive, make your time.' If you or someone you know received this e-mail within the last 5 hours, please-**

Click.

"There's nothing good on TV these days. Maybe someone posted a new story." The author got up from the chair and went to his computer, which was still occupied by a brooding Cloud. "Cloud, get off, I need to use the computer."

"Why?"

"Because, dumbass, it's mine. Now here's a pencil and paper. Do what the other emos do and write angry and crappy poetry." Cloud snagged the writing utensil and paper from the author's hands and went to a secluded corner. The author ignored this and logged into his destination site, hoping that an update or two were made.

"What's this? 'All updates and new posts will not be available at the moment due to mystery e-mails.' That's bull! Now what am I gonna do?"

"_Well, you could always get your notepad and write your not-so-angry-but-just-as-crappy poems."_

"Screw that. I'll just make me something to eat and get my MP3 player, but I'll leave this site up in case they fixed the problem." So the author left his station and reported to the kitchen to cook up some grub, unbeknownst that Cloud had slithered his way back to the computer and stared at the webpage displayed.

"What is this? 'Fanfiction .Net. Unleash Your Imagination.' Heh, and he calls me emo. Hey look, stories about me." Cloud began clicking some of the stories that had his name on them. Unfortunately for him, most had the word 'yaoi' in the hardly read summary.

This means that things just went real bad.

A few minutes later…

The author came back from the kitchen with a steaming bowl of melon seed soup, which he made himself, and a pair of earphones lodged in his ears. Judging from the constant headbanging and air guitar, the song was obviously 'Twisted Transistor' by the coolest rock band Korn. He had just taken a spoonful of melon seed when he saw Cloud shaking again, only this time he was muttering something about a 'french kiss with Reno because Tifa told him so' or something like that. The author then saw why he was shaking like that, and cursed out loud because of it. This made Cloud jump from his seat and turned around to see the author with a spoon in his mouth.

"Can you be honest with me? Do I look gay?"

The author nearly chocked on the spoon when he heard what the blond swordsman asked him. Surely he couldn't have been serious.

Surely.

"…Why are you asking me this?"

"Well, I was reading these stories and most of them involved me in very steamy situations with other guys, and I was just wondering if it was because of the way I look."

The author let out a sigh and looked Cloud straight in the eye. "I'm not gonna lie to you. Yes. Yes you do. But that's not why people write you as a gay person."

"_It's because you have no balls that they write you as a gay person!"_

The daemon made his entrance, finally, and stood by the author, his monstrous eyes locked into the mako ones of Cloud.

"How dare you! I do have balls!"

"_Please, the only balls you ever had were Sephiroth's in your mouth."_ The author dropped his bowl, spewing its hearty contents on the blood stained floor. Vomit quickly followed. All Cloud did was get out of the chair and went to the bed, crying. He then got his sword and began cutting himself again.

Wiping a clean hand over his tainted mouth, the author got up and noticed new blood being spilled on his bed. "Man, what else can go wrong?"

It seems history tends to repeat itself, as there was another knock on the door. Even though he knew it was not going to be anything good like a girlfriend or doctors to send him to the loony house, the author opened the door, and a tipsy Tifa face-planted on the floor. She quickly got up despite her now bleeding nose and began cuddling with the closest thing she could reach.

"Oh, my sweet Cloud. I want to rip everything off of you and start our honeymoon early!" It was obvious that Tifa was more drunk than the local drunk for many reasons. One being that she no longer had her wedding dress on but rather a pair of leather pants and a biker's jacket with the words 'The Blue Oyster' stitched on the back. Her hair was more tangled than the author's in the morning, and her breath reeked of strong liquor. Another, and most obvious reason was that she was currently fondling and talking dirty sex talk to the author, who was 3 seconds away from passing out from a major nosebleed.

"Um…I'm not Cloud…so can you…let me go?"

"Hm?" Tifa looked up, her half shut eyes scanning the face of the body she was mooching on and made a slump frown. "Hey, your not Cloud. Where is he?" She lets go of the author, who almost falls from all the blood that filled his head, and began wobbling to the next closest thing she could find. "Are you Cloud?"

"_For you, I could be anything."_

"Nope. Definitely not Cloud. He never does anything fun." She lets go of the daemon and bumps by the computer. She reads what's on the screen and her face got back some color, mostly because she was pissed. Apparently, Cloud forgot to close down the story about him and his male encounters before he went all mental, and as Tifa read every word, one by one her knuckles cracked with eagerness. She bolted up, almost as if the alcohol just disappeared from her system, and looked around the room to find her deceitful husband. Of course, he was still on the bed, only this time rolled up in a ball and saying something about him not being gay. She went up to him, lunged her hands to his shirt collar and dragged him out of bed and stood him up. He was having trouble standing, but that was probably because of all the blood he lost or from his manhood being shattered by a bunch of dreamers. One of those.

"Cloud! How could you?"

"How could I what?"

"Don't play stupid, mister! You know what you did!"

"Is this about me borrowing your eyeliner 'cause I said I was sorry!"

"Maybe, now that I know why you used it! I mean, another woman might be understandable, but a man Cloud!?"

Both the author and the daemon slowly inched towards the restroom. They have heard this tune before and it wasn't pretty.

"What? I did not cheat on you. Especially not with a man!"

"Oh please, save it for Gary Slinger. I can't believe you Cloud. Vincent was right, I should have just ran off with him on the day of the wedding."

Cloud made a huff and slammed his hands on his hip, not really helping his case at all.

"But that doesn't matter Cloud." She went by the bed and picked up the swordsman's own sword. "Because if I can't have you, no one will!" With just one thrust, the sword went through Cloud's chest, with such ease that it made Tifa suspicious. Especially when Cloud made a smile on his dying face.

"Alright! Now I can be with Aeris, my TRUE love! Bye!" He tilted and fell to the floor, dead.

"Oh no you don't, Cloud STRIFE!" She pulled the sword out of her dead husband and somehow managed to jam it straight through her chest. "That bitch will never have you!" Then she fell over Cloud, also on her way to the Lifestream.

Throughout this time the daemon and the author just stood as they watched the whole scene act out, confusion running through their minds. The author was the first to get back to his senses, and he stood over the couple that were once celebrating marriage. Well, one of them was. Now he could visualize what they were doing in the Lifestream; Tifa grabbing one arm of Cloud and Aeris grabbing the other in an eternal tug-of-war match.

The daemon, seeing no point in eating dead people since he had some pride, decided to get back to his residents that was the author's head.

_"Well that was a pair of perfect breasts wasted!"_

"Hey, come on now daemon. It could be worse."

Right outside of the Earth's atmosphere, hordes of alien battleships began firing death lasers at random locations on the surface of the planet. One of the ships had a hologram projection that said a simple sentence.

'All your base are belong to us.'

* * *

**Haha! Zero Wing, you will rock on forever!**

**I hope all of you liked it, especially those that requested these characters. Hope I didn't disappoint.**

**Please read and review!**


	10. Don Corneo

**Hello, readers! Sorry for taking a while to update. Been busy with other stuff like promises to friends and summer planning.**

**_Or what he really means, sitting down all day watching movies about talking milkshakes and a fat man in an overcoat who doesn't talk much._**

**Well I have to get my inspiration somewhere!**

**_Whatever._**

**Anyway, this chapter will have yet another special guest in the series. This guest actually belongs to a good friend of mine, but she gave me the green light in return I don't screw her character up. Who is this guest? You'll find out soon enough.**

**_Real soon._**

**This skit is requested by Aranae. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the special guest in this story. The real owner is out there. She knows who she is.**

* * *

The college campus was real quiet today, for it was mid-term exam day. Almost everyone was participating in said event to ensure a passing grade and not flunk the course and owe the school money. The author knew this fact and was already in his designated class working on his exam, but something kept bugging him. No, he studied the night before so the academics wasn't what troubled him. It was the daemon's constant interruption that was.

_"That's not the answer to that question, you idiot! You have it all wrong!"_

"Daemon, please, shut the hell up! I'm trying to take my test."

_"And I'm trying to tell you that you're doing it all wrong! The answer is B! B, damn it!"_

"How do you know? Have you even looked at the test?"

_"Yeah, on the desk of that perfectionist sitting at the front row, and he has B on that question!"_

"WTF? You're telling me to cheat?"

_"No, duh."_

"Is there a problem here, m'kay?"

The author shot his face up from his test to the eyes of his professor. He was a crusty old man, and that speech problem of his was annoying, but that didn't mean that the professor couldn't spy a disturbance, and the author fit that category.

"Yes, professor?"

"You are shaking uncontrollably, m'kay? I thought you were under the influence of drugs, m'kay? Drugs are bad, m'kay? There bad, m'kay?"

The author sighed, since there was nothing else to do. Once the professor started ranting, he wouldn't stop, unless he got thirsty or fell asleep half way. All that stopped, however, when two men in black suits opened the classroom door.

"Uh, can I help you, m'kay?"

One of the men reached into his jacket and pulled out an ID of sorts. " My name is agent Holden Magroin, and this is my partner Oliver Klosof. We're in search of a very dangerous individual who-" The agent cut himself off and his eyes went straight to the author. "That's him! Get him!"

The author was just as confused as everyone else and both agents were able to subdue him with ease because of it. "Wait a minute! Where are you taking me? I already told you guys! I was born here! Let go!" His rants and movements weren't enough and he was taken to a van that headed to a far off destination. The professor just stood there like nothing really happened and picked up the author's unfinished test.

"Well, if I had a dollar for every strange thing that happened here, I would have retired years ago, m'kay?"

xxx

The author couldn't see what was going on, since one of the agent guys put a blindfold over his eyes. He was able to hear, and all he heard was the engine of a car and several people conversing. From what they were saying, he could make out that they were planning to leave him with the 'Boss' as they put it. The thing is he couldn't tell who was saying what.

"So why does the Boss want this kid for? He looking for more toys?"

"Probably. You know how the Boss is right now. Ever since that Big Bro freak stormed in and took most of the boys he was pretty short on staff."

"So why doesn't he hire girls instead?"

"Please. You think a girl would want to do THAT to another girl?"

"...True. But why him?"

"The woman we caught has an accomplice who is said to have a demon in him. He falls in that category."

The author was really confused about all of this that he basically just wanted it to end. Of course, that was before he heard about this woman. Who is she, and what does she have to do with him.?

_"You know you really have to stop talking to yourself. People might think you're loony."_

"Shut up daemon." A quick thought lightbulbed on the author's head. "No, wait. Help me out. Get me out of this thing."

No answer.

"Daemon? I know you can hear me! Quit fucking around and help me out of this!"

Silence.

"Damn it!"

Just as that happened, the author could feel the van stop and a door being forced open. He then felt his body being lifted and carried somewhere. To anyone other than the author this would entirely freak them out, but since this was the host of a daemon, he knew it was bound to happen. He just hoped that he can make it back to finish that exam.

He felt himself sitting after a few moments in the air and the blindfold and cuffs were removed. The light radiating from the room he was in was enough to make him go blind. Or maybe it was the tacky wallpaper and horrible paintings on the wall. One of those.

"Where am I? What do you want from me?" The author asked at the two 'agents' standing in front of him. Their only response was that they moved sideways to reveal a very disturbing looking man making forward crotch thrusts that was enough to make the author jump up and almost run away. The only thing that prevented him from doing that was the two guns aimed at his head. The 'agents' signaled him to sit back down and he did, and just then the disturbing man from before was already at least a foot from him.

"Young man, do you know who I am?" the disturbing man asked, doing something with his hands that the author didn't want to know about.

"A man who idolizes Buffalo Bob a bit too much?" The author never expected this to happen yet it did.

The man slapped him.

Hard.

"Ow! What the hell was that for?" The author got up but again the guns forced him down. The man merely waved his hand to ease the recoiled pain and leered at the author. "My name is Don Corneo, one of the most powerful crime lords in the planet! So you think just because you came to rob me you can disrespect me? Holden! Oliver! Send our 'guest' to the dungeon." A sick malicious grin formed on the Don's face as he turned away and headed upstairs. "I'll be there shortly. I just have to dress for the occasion. Heheh!"

_"What the fuck is up that guy's ass?"_

" I don't know, but he seems to like it."

_"A bit too much."_

"Alright, you." Holden instructed the author to get up and head towards the dungeon. They stood by the doorway leading to the dungeon when the author looked up and noticed a sign.

**Abandon hope all ye who enter here**

"Sounds inviting."

"Shut up and keep moving."

The dungeon was dark and reeked a lot like dry blood. It almost made the author hurl, but he knew that if he did, it would only make the smell worse and he wouldn't stop. Plus they were walking down stairs, so he would have tripped and be covered in puke which would not only be worse, but just plain disgusting. But enough talk of puke and to get back to the story. The author reached the bottom only to be sickened at what he saw. Let's just say the daemon's frequent maulings don't meet up to par. Tables with leather straps, a cage with what appears to be a naked girl in it doing god-knows-what and racks full of certain gadgets that should only exist in the mind of a serious sick man. And aside from the naked girl in the cage, they were not alone. On one of the tables there was a woman wearing some kind of bondage and being whipped by some midget wearing a yellow hat and blue cloak. The author recognized the two immediately.

"...Vivi? Ruby?"

Both S&Mers jumped in shock and simply left. The author thought it weird, and not as weird as what he saw next. On another table, there was a woman, fully clothed, tied down by her hands and ankles. Her blue eyes were scanning the room furiously as she struggled to get free, her black hair going over her face at times. With one push the author walked to her direction and was ordered to just stand by her.

"So, Miss Phoenix, did you think that you can steal from the Boss? We know you are from the WRO and that he is as well, so there's nothing else to hide." Holden raised his gun to this 'Phoenix' woman and moved her loose strands away from her face. That's when she saw the author and was quite surprised. "Who is this? I never met him?"

"Yeah, and I've never met her. And for the last time I didn't join the Women's Rights Organization!" The author was pretty ticked off that he was brought here by mistaken identity. If only he had a dollar for every time that has happened...

He'd be a dollar richer.

"Hah! You think we're gonna believe you two? Hosts of supernatural spirits? Don't make me laugh." Oliver then went near the woman and placed his hand on her face. "Speaking of which, why don't we get 'her' out?"

"That's enough, Oliver!" A loud voice was heard near the stairway of the entrance of the dungeon. All turned to see the Don wearing...the exact same thing he was wearing when he was first seen. The author found it all confusing. "That's my job."

"Wait, I though you said you were gonna 'change for the occasion' or some crap like that? And while I'm at it, I'm not supposes to be here! You got the wrong guy."

"And no one is getting anything out of me! You got that?!" The woman yelled out to the perverted man. Said pervert just ignored it and proceeded further inside the dungeon. "Oh, but I will, my dear Lilah. Either from you or your boyfriend the muse bearer."

"Boyfriend?"

"Muse-bearer?"

_"MUSE!?"_

At this time, the daemon got out of the author's mind and revealed itself in front of the Don, making the man cower in fear and run off back upstairs. The daemon almost rushed up for him, but was stopped when some thugs came down armed with beer bottles and pocket knives. A real threatening group indeed.

Lilah didn't freak about the daemon's entrance like the others and turned to the auther. "Hey, kid. Mind helping me out here?'

"Might as well. I'm already involved in this somehow." The author loosenedthe straps on Lilah's limbs and also retrieved her trademark dual swords, which she quickly used to dispatch the pathetically named Oliver Klosof and Holden Magroin. The daemon saw this and decided to let them handle it on their own and flew off to chase the Don. This left the author and Lilah with around 20 poorly armed thugs. Solutions, anyone?

"Well, nice knowing ya, even though I don't actually know you."

"Same here, kid. Mind doing me another favor?"

"What?"

"Cover your eyes."

The author was about to ask why when Lilah's body began to glow, her once blue eyes turned emerald green and her clothes were replaced by fiery feathers. The light was too intense that the author had to shield his eyes or else they would melt in his skull. Again, the author was blind and again he could only hear, only this time instead of a smooth engine he heard the dying screams of guys who were probably only here for a good time. That's life he supposed.

After a while of dying bloody gurgles and screeches of pain the author simply thought this is just what happens here in the dungeon, that it needed that new coat of blood since the old one was crusting. After another while of that, the light felt to dom and the author opened his eyes only to see a bloody mess rivaling that of the daemon's. In the middle of it was Lilah, panting hard and wobbly, her swords on the floor. "Hey, uh, Lilah? You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. It just takes a lot out of me when I transform. I'll be great in a few seconds." She reached down to grab her swords and sheathed them on her back. "Now I have to hunt down that perv so I can finish this mission." She darted up the stairs leaving the author to dwell in the overused dungeon alone.

Or so he thought, since he noticed that the girl in the cage was still there and alive and that she was chanting something about a 'Technologic' which made the author skedaddle out of there as well. It didn't take him that long for him to find Lilah and the daemon. All he had to do was follow the bloodied trail of corpses on the stairs leading to the main room. When he entered there, he was reunited with Lilah and the demon, along with the sick fuck that is Don Corneo.

"Alright, Don. Give me what I want and I won't kill you. It's that simple. Otherwise..." Lilah drew one of her swords and rested it on the Don's cheek, only it kept lower and lower until..."I'll cut them off."

The Don's eyes went wide and he began panicing, mumbling 'Pleasedonthurtme!' in 5 different languages.

"Then give it up!" Lilah's voice became more threatening and dangerous. "Just hand over all the secrets you stole from the WRO and I'll leave you alone."

"Okay, fine! It's in the cabinet where the young man and his beast are standing." The Don pointed to said cabinet and Lilah went to it, searching for what she came to find. "But, I must ask you Miss Phoenix, why do you think I gave up too easily?"

She stood stiff for a moment before turning around and stared into the pervert's eyes. "Because you have nothing to lose except your excuse to being a man?"

"Wrong!" With one simple reach, Corneo grabbed a string over his bed and pulled it down, both the author and Lilah tensing as to what might happen. Then a trap door flug open, leading to the sewers below.

And it opened a few feet away from where Lilah and the author were standing.

"Dammit! I told those guys to build it near the cabinet! i can't find good help here!"

"Whatever, Don. I came what I was here to get." Lilah reached further and retrieved a small disk. "My mission is complete. Have a nice day." She walked past the author and left the room while the Don snarled and leered. "Grrr...she's not getting away with this!"

"You do know that I'm still in here, right?" The Don's heated face went away when he noticed the author standing by the door as if he's about to leave.

_"And you do know that you called me a muse, right?"_ This time the daemon asked, his fangs exposed to show bits of flesh and blood from previous victims. All color from the Don's face faded away and his voice was but a mere shrill. The author knew that it was time to leave the Don with the company of the daemon and left, closing the door behind him.

Moments later, bloody screams and flesh ripping were heard in the Don's quarters.

The author left the mansion that was the Don's house and saw Lilah trying to hotwire the van that brought him here. "So what are you gonna do now, Lilah?"

"Well, I going back to HQ and report my mission as successful, but I lack transportation so that is why I'm trying to get this van to start...Yah!" The engine turned on and Lilah did a happy dance, but stopped when she saw the author giving her a questioning look. "Sorry, just a little excited. So where's your demon half?"

"Daemon, and he's inside having himself a snack." Lilah raised an eyebrow before making a face of shock. "Let's just say the Don won't be stealing any secrets from now on."

"Impressive. You, me, and others out there. We're a rare breed of people. Hosts of supernatural beings as the one man put it. Keep in touch alright."

"Yeah." Lilah was about to leave when the author stared at his watch. "Oh, damn! Hey, Lilah! Can you give me a lift?"

xxx

"Okay, class, you have 10 minutes left to finish your exam, m'kay? There's no need to rush since there is no pressure but just know that if it's incomplete it's an automatic failure, m'kay?" Following that statement, the sound of pencils circling answers tenfold, but was easily shadowed by the sound of a speeding engine that was only getting louder. "What in blazes could that be, m'kay?" The professor was about to exit the room when a van crushed into the front wall of the classroom, spreading rocks on all the students. So far the only casualty was some poor sap sitting on the front row. The professor could see that inside the van was his crazy student and a very hot woman, as he put it, taking the wheel. "Thanks for the lift, Lilah!"

"Anytime!" She then put the gear on reverse and got out of the classroom and drove off to her destination. The author took a seat at a desk not covered by rocks but not before taking his old test from the frozen professor who stood there as if he died from shock. Or from heart complications since all of his blood went to one certain area. One of those. And even with that and the fact that most of the students are injured, the test still has to be taken and completed.

That's college life for ya.

* * *

**Sorry if it's not as funny as the others. I have a lot of stuff in my mind and I can't seem to think straight.**

**_As they can see just by reading the chapter._**

**Exactly.**

**Anyway, I hope you like it despite its flaws, especially those who requested it. That's you Aranae. And if your a fan of Lilah Phoenix don't be mad if I sort of screwed up on her character. Again mind not straight.**

**_Please read and review!_**


	11. Shelke

**(Emerges from a flaming pit) Huff…huff…made it…**

…**Sorry for taking so long to update. I've been…uh… (Eyes flaming pit)…somewhere. Anywho, I don't have much time here in the surface world and as fate would have it, I have to go back, but before I do, I leave you this update.**

**This skit is requested by MysticSpiritus. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I own this rip in the space-time continuum (I.E. the CAD universe) and nothing else.**

--

The author was rather bored at this time of day, since he was just lying on his bed. It seems the semester is over meaning that his only social activity was over as well. All he did was just played a few games, browsed a few sites, and even egged a few dorms.

Yeah, he's THAT bored.

"Man, why is there nothing to do here? It's times like these I wish I had a girlfriend or some other excuse to go out."

"_Well you could always live up to your name and write something."_

The author nodded in agreement, but then later jumped from his bed in surprise.

"Daemon? I thought you said you went to those summer resorts to scare off kids and such."

"_Yeah, but then that Fairy Chick showed up and tried to exorcize me. It's not worth it to scare a bunch of drunken college kids. So enough about me, how was your break so far?"_

A yawn escaped the author's mouth as he sat back down on his bed, reaching for his weekly copy of 'The Midgar Express' and looked at an article about insane fathers having handsome sons.

"Ugh, boring. I just found out that I'm the only one who stayed on campus, so I took advantage of that and broke into the other dorms. So far all I found is this magazine, a new TV, a few games, tons of books, a couple of computers, and a partridge in a pear tree." The author got up and went to said tree and snatched a pear, taking a healthy bite out of it.

"_Did you also take that awesome chair, too?"_

"What…chair?" the author asked in between bites from the pear. He scanned his room and noticed a mechanical chair by the kitchen, computer monitors and wires everywhere. He was trying to figure out 2 things: Since when did he get the chair, and how did it fit through his door? He put the pear down and sat on the chair, cold steel giving the author shivers.

"Hmm…comfortable and stylish. A bit cold and hard but I like it."

"_That's what she said."_ The daemon proceeded to laugh madly at this point.

"You and your lame jokes. You wouldn't know funny if it came and raped you in the-"

Suddenly, the chair made a mechanical sound and binds placed themselves on the author's hands and legs. He panicked, like everyone else would in a situation like this, and struggled to get free, but to no avail.

"What the hell is going on? Did I push something?"

"_I don't know, but there is something mighty long coming your way."_

"Seriously, enough with the lame jokes!"

"_Who says I'm kidding?"_

Just then, the author felt an incredibly sharp pain from behind his skull. He then began to see weird images of abstract objects and parallel lines, similar to what you see if you do acid.

Of course, the author doesn't know anything about that. The daemon however…

One extensive acid-trip later…

The author lay motionless on a hard surface. The way his body was laid out seemed reminiscent to a drunk after a hard week of boozing. There also seemed no sign of him waking up. Then again it's the author so what do you expect.

"Wake up." said a mysterious and monotonous voice.

Nothing.

"Wake up."

…Still nothing.

"HEY! WAKE YOUR LAZY ASS UP!!" The voice proceeded to beating up the passed out author with a baseball bat. This of course was more successful as the author shot up and winced in pain.

"What the hell?! Can't a man sleep in…peace…?" He was a bit confused at his resting setting. Last he checked, he was on a chair. Not on top of a skyscraper in the middle of an unknown city. And he also didn't remember a small girl standing in front of him before he went to sleep.

Wearing black and having shades.

And holding a baseball bat.

"Okay, who are you and where am I?" The author asked the small girl and checked his surroundings again. He feels like he has seen this before. Then again, he also feels nauseous and bruised.

"My name is Shelke, and you have finally arrived, Neo." The young girl removed her shades to reveal a pair of shining eyes, startling the author a little.

"Hold up, I'm not Neo."

Shelke raised an eyebrow. "You have to be. We sent the chair to your place after we sent the marker."

"And what was the marker?"

"A partridge in a pear tree."

The author facepalmed and laughed. "Uh, actually you got the wrong person. See, I stole the tree from someone else's place and I guess that's why the chair showed up. My bad."

"So you're not Neo?"

"Uh…No. Sorry."

The young girl clutched her fist and began a fit, bashing a nearby vent with the bat. "Dammit! I screwed up again! First I get crabs from some KH loser and now this! Gawd, I HATE this!" The bat broke, but then a new one showed up a second later and the beating began anew.

At this time, the author made a very obvious find.

"Wait a minute! Are you saying that I got jacked into the Ma-"

Without warning, Shelke covered the author's mouth with an oily rag that tasted surprisingly like cheese. "SHHH! Do you want to get sued?! We don't call it THAT here! We call it the Network."

The author takes the rag out of his mouth but begins to eat it. "Wow. Make it sound less bootleg why don't you. So I'm in the 'Network'?" the author asked, making the 'quote' signal with his fingers.

"Yes, but you're not supposed to be here. So that only gives me one option." She extended her hands, and lightsabers came out, beams of orange light glowing with power. "I have to kill you."

The author saw this coming, and just stood there eating the rest of the rag. "Wait. Instead of killing me, can't you just send me back? That way, I can have a chance to die in the real world and not in the 'Network'. Whaddya say?"

Shelke held her chin for a good while that she threw away her lightsabers. She can always ask the Ma-I mean the Network for more.

"No."

She snapped her fingers and many guns appeared floating on thin air. "I'm pissed and I have an itch that I can't scratch. I have to let out my anger somehow. Goodbye, Mr….whatever your name is." The sound of many guns cocking simultaneously disturbed the author, but if he is in fact in someplace similar to THAT place, then he has nothing to worry about.

…Ish.

Shelke snapped her fingers again and the guns began firing, round after round aimed and heading towards the author. But right when the bullets appeared to have made contact, the author pulled off one of the most referenced and overused stunts ever to appear in this world.

He tilted his back and waved his arms, dodging all the bullets and appearing kickass all in a slow-mo fashion.

After a good 5 hours of ballistics flying and arms waving, the author realigned himself and a few loud cracks and pops were heard in the process. "Ow! I'm too old for this."

"_It's not that you're old, it's that you have the spine of an 86 year old."_

The author rubbed his back and waved off the insult when he realized just who said it.

"What the-How did you get here?"

"_Simple. I exist in your mind. Your mind was jacked into the Ma-"_

"It's Network."

"_Oh. Anywho, your mind was jacked into the 'Network'. Hence, I was also jacked in. It's simple logic really."_

"So where have you been the whole time?"

"_I was spending a nice evening with this blond chick in a red dress. She was h-h-h-HOT!! And she wasn't afraid to have some fun if you know what I mean!"_

"I have a guess."

"Um, hello?"

The author stopped and looked at the ignored and irritated little girl, who has managed to attain back her lightsabers. "I will not be ignored. You shall die for your stupidity! They didn't pay me enough to deal with assholes like you!" She made a fighting stance and charged towards the author, all while screaming 'Death to all!'

She was coming his way, and the author was ready to just step sideways and let her trip, but then something completely tripped out happened.

"I will not be ignored. You shall die for your stupidity! They didn't pay me enough to deal with assholes like you! Death to all!" Somehow, someway, Shelke resumed her position on the far side of the rooftop and began running anew.

"Whoa. Talk about déjà vu."

"_Déjà vu…Oh damn! A glitch!"_

As if on cue, many replicas of Shelke in black clothing came from all directions, each one holding a different weapon. The author even caught a glimpse of that blond woman in the red dress that the daemon was boasting about, only this time she came with a rather large rocket launcher.

In short, the author was screwed.

"Crap, crap, crap! Think, dammit, think!"

"_You could just submit to your doom and I could try to get my way again with the red dress chick."_

"…Or…"

The Shelkes were alarmingly close now, and all the author did was bend his knees.

"_What are you doing?"_

"Saving my own ass!"

Just as one of the Shelkes, and from her appearance it was concluded to be the original, was about to decapitate the author via lightsaber, the author jumped. Well, outside of the 'Network' it would be considered a jump, but since this place denied some laws of physics, he flew out of harm's way.

"Dammit! I HATE today! Can it get any…hm?" the fitting Shelke stopped her rant when she noticed something where the author used to be. Her eyes went wide when she realized what it was.

A malicious chuckle escaped the lips of the author when the bomb went off behind him, screams of pain being overshadowed by the intensity of the blast. It wasn't a pretty site.

"_If I didn't know any better, I'd say you enjoyed that."_

"…Maybe. But enough about that. How do we get out of here?"

"You really are an idiot. We need to look for a phone. It's that simple."

And so an owned and mumbling author scanned from the skies for a phone booth of sorts when he saw one by a noodle shop. He descended to land, and…well…let's just say it's not flying that's hard, it's landing. So after he rubbed off all the asphalt and whatever poor organism it was that was now on the author's back, he reached for the phone booth when he noticed two guys near it.

"Hey, fellas. Mind if I used the phone?"

One of the guys looked at the author and made a face of surprise. "Whoa, it's the college dude! Hey Phil, check it out!" The other guy took his surfer-talking friend's advice and made the same reaction. "Hey Zed it is the college dude! Excellent!" the two proceeded in performing air guitar. The author looked on, both confused and slightly pissed, until he finally remembered who they were.

"Now I remember these guys! Phil and Zed from History class."

"_Who?"_

"Phil and Zed. 'Member? You 'member!" the daemon made a 'I don't know' whim and the author just shrugged. "Anyway, how did you guys get here? Did you jack into the 'Network' using cool chairs or what?"

Phil and Zed just stared at each other and made confused faces. "Wait, you mean we're not stoned? Bogus..."

"So about that phone…"

"Huh? Oh yeah, sure you can use it." Both Phil and Zed backed away and let the author through, but just when he thought he was in the clear…

"Stop!"

The author turned around to see a brand new Shelke just near the noodle shop, complete with a giant cannon that de when she 9rlace denied soappears to have belonged to a tank.

"You and your stoner friends won't make it out of here alive!" Shelke shouted and after another hour of empty threats and pointless bickering she fired the cannon. Of course since an hour did pass she was quite pissed when she realized that the author, stoners, and even the phone booth were gone and all she shot was a cat. She threw the cannon to the floor and began another fit when she heard a beeping sound and when she looked down; a digital defragmenter bomb was there.

"…Not again."

xxx

Electricity danced on the wooden floor of the author's room as a phone booth appeared from out of nowhere. The door of the booth slid open, and out came the author accompanied by 'smoke' and constant laughter. Inside was Phil and Zed, along with a man in a sparkling suit and shades.

"I can't believe I kicked Adolf Hitler in the nuts! Next time you guys go back in time, count me in!"

"Sure thing, kid." The man in the sparkling suit said. "Just remember to be excellent and party on."

"Catch ya later, college dude!"

The door closed as Phil and Zed started another session of air guitar and electricity began covering the whole booth. Moments later, it was gone, and the author was just standing there in awe.

"Not bad for the first day of summer, huh daemon?"

"_You can say that again. God I miss that chick in the red dress."_

"Something tells me you'll see her again. Now where's that pear tree?"

--

**Well there it is. Crude and a bit off-topic but complete. Most of my humor is being sent to another fic so I hope you don't mind leftovers.**

**Also, this chapter is dedicated to George 'The Original Rufus' Carlin, who passed away last Monday. He's now making angels laugh their ass off in Heaven and it doesn't get any better than that. Be excellent and party on dude!**

**Oh, and that little joke with Shelke and crabs is from the mentality of AmazonTurk. Yes, I had to say it. That way, if she ever reads this, she can't say I stole her joke and threaten me and such.**

**Ha.**

**One last thing. Mystic, this may or may not be what you had in mind for Shelke, but when you leave it to me, you never know what you're gonna get.**

**Please read and review! I have to go back to the pit now so take care! (Goes back into the flaming pit, and fire consumes all)**


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